Sayonara Senior Year
by lazermonkey
Summary: Long before his days as a cop, Ken Hutchinson was just another teenager confused about life. This story follows Hutch through his senior year of high school. Many issues arise as graduation draws near and Hutch must figure out how to handle them before time runs out. Told from Hutch's POV with lot's of high school angst. (Rated T to be safe)
1. Chapter 1: Decisions

**This story takes place during Hutch's senior year of high school. Not technically episode related, but a few canon people and things are mentioned. Jack Mitchell (The Las Vegas Strangler) and Nancy Blake (Terror On The Docks) are present. References to Hutch's Sea Scout experience (Murder at Sea) are also included. **

* * *

**Chapter 1: Decisions**

**T****uesday****, ****December ****1****9****th****, 1961**

"Ken! You got mail!" my sister Kirsten yelled up the stairs.

"Be right there!" I yelled back. I closed the book I was reading and ran down the stairs. Kirsten was standing by the kitchen table sorting through the mail.

"You got four more. University of Wisconsin, Ohio State, Minnesota State and good old University of Minnesota Duluth. How many colleges did you apply to anyway?" she asked, handing me a stack of envelopes.

"None yet, I just asked for information."

"Looks like they delivered. You narrowed it down any yet? Everyone will start asking you soon."

"They already have. It's all I've been asked since senior year started."

"Get used to it, Kenny. Believe me, it doesn't let up," she warned me. Since Kirsten had graduated high school two years prior, I trusted her insight.

"I can't wait," I grumbled sarcastically. I was already sick of being asked about my college plans. I wasn't sure where I was going yet. _I'm not even sure __if__ I am going, _I thought.

"Just be glad they don't ask you about marriage plans! That's all I ever hear about anymore!"

"It's because you're well on your way to becoming an old maid at 20 years of age," I teased. Kirsten punched me in the arm.

"Shut up, half-pint! You don't understand what it's like out there for us girls!" Kirsten had called me half-pint ever since she had read _Little House on The __Prairie _for the first time. She thought it was fitting since I was the youngest and smallest of the family. One of those things had since changed, but the nickname stuck.

"It can't be that bad,"

"Oh? Have you ever been asked about your progress on finding a wife? Or maybe why you bother to study so hard when your wife could take care of you?" Kirsten raised her eyebrows at me, awaiting my answer.

"No, that's absurd!"

"Thank you! Would you believe me if I told you my professor asked me the second one? The guy is a real piece of work, but I need the class." Kirsten was studying at UMD to become a physical therapist. I felt bad that people didn't take her seriously, but I knew Kirsten would work her butt off to prove them wrong. My sister could be a very determined woman.

That evening at supper, our family was all at home for once. My mother had gotten off work early. She had started working as a secretary again once Kirsten started high school to help with our college expenses. My parents had agreed to pay half of our tuition. The rest we had to raise ourselves.

"How was school today, Ken?" my mother asked as she set a pan of lasagna on the table.

"Fine. Jack is coming over to study later."

"Is he still thinking about medical school?" my father asked. He was a manager at Duluth Works steel plant.

"Yes. I think he'll probably do it too. He's dead set on being a doctor."

"Like Doctor Frankenstein?" Kirsten piped up. I laughed. Jack Mitchell was my best friend, but he did seem almost crazy sometimes. Maybe that's why I liked him. He kept things interesting.

"What about you, Ken? Have you made any decisions yet?" he asked.

"I'm just trying to get through this week, Dad. I have to finish my finals and get my grades back before I can apply anywhere. I should be done by Friday." Dad nodded in approval. He had always pushed us to do well in school. He had a degree in engineering and valued education greatly.

"I'm sure glad I got mine done last week," Kirsten commented as the doorbell rang. I jumped up to answer it, already knowing who it was.

"Hi there, Hutch!" Jack greeted me as I opened the door.

"You're early! Come on, let's go upstairs. I have to save you from failing world literature."

"Kenneth Hutchinson! You get in here and finish your supper first!" Mom scolded me from the kitchen. I followed Jack back to the table. "You too Jack, grab a plate. There's plenty."

"Thanks, Mrs. Hutchinson! Hutch must have told you my folks were gone for the week. They gave the cook a vacation too, so I'm starving to death on my own over there!" Jack joked. He was the only child of wealthy parents, which meant that Jack got pretty much anything he wanted. Even the option to quit private school in favor of the public high school experience. I would never understand that one, but I was glad he had shown up that first day of freshmen year. We had been good friends ever since.

After we had both eaten our supper, Jack and I headed up to my room. I sat at my desk with a textbook while he sprawled out on the floor.

"What does it mean to refer to something as a white whale?" I asked him.

"Uhh...If it's a whale that's white?"

"Not even close."

"I'm going to fail aren't I, Hutch?"

"Not if you start paying attention and actually read the books they give you." Jack was smart. He was great in science and math and more than proficient in every other subject. Except world literature. He hated reading and abstract thinking, which was bad combination for passing the class. Luckily for Jack, I loved both.

"That's for squares. I have better things to do this week than study all this literature I'll never need to know about."

"Jack, it's your final grade for the semester. You still want to be valedictorian, right?"

"I figure I've done well enough to get the top grade even if I fail the final. I'm not worried about it. I've already written my speech!"

"Of course you have. Now define _transcendentalism," _I spun around in my chair to stare at Jack. He rolled over onto his stomach and groaned.

"Transcen- what? Hutchinson, you're killing me! Can we take a break?"

"We've taken nothing but breaks since-"

"Who cares? There's a party at Paul's house this weekend," Jack informed me.

"So?" Jack looked at me like I was the dumbest person alive as he plopped down on my bed.

"So, we're gonna go! And don't you dare tell me you have to study because it's not until Friday night and your exams will be over by then."

"Fine, whatever. Now what was Captain Ahab's boat named?" I dodged as Jack chucked a pillow at me.

**Friday, December 22nd, 1961**

The rest of the week flew by in a series of studying, finals, and listening to Jack complain about literature. I had done my best on everything. Now I could only hope that it was enough. When Friday night finally arrived, I found myself in Jack's car on the way to Paul's party. I was incredibly worn out, but as usual Jack had somehow managed to convince me to go. Maybe he was just that persuasive or maybe I just didn't trust him to drive himself home after an evening of partying. Either way, there was no backing out now.

"Here we are, Hutch! Ready to party?"

"Eh...I'm ready to sleep," I answered with a yawn.

"Oh, come on. It'll be fun!" Jack jumped out of the car and hurried to the door. I followed him with less enthusiasm.

_Paul sure has a lot of friends,_ I observed as we entered the crowded living room. Paul's parents were picking up his brother from college for the holidays, so Paul was taking advantage of their absence. About six people greeted Jack immediately. Jack thrived at parties. He was a social butterfly. I, on the other hand, could be awkward sometimes. I was no good at dancing, small talk, or flirting. All things Jack insisted were essential parts of any good party. Jack always encouraged me in these matters. He had been the one to set me up on the first date I'd ever been on back during freshmen year. It was a blind date to the school square dance and one of the most humiliating evenings of my entire life. Jack was determined not to let me die single. I was determined to avoid another girl selected by him, so I gathered my courage and started asking out my own dates. I had a strong suspicion Jack had hoped for that to happen, but he denied it.

Jack was the type of guy that had a new girlfriend every week. This week it was Pam Smith. _Or __is__ it Kate Miller?_ I could never keep up. I grabbed a beer as I watched him head upstairs with a pretty red head. _Guess I'll be waiting a while._ I stood in the corner watching everyone when Susan Howard approached me.

"Where's the prince?" she asked.

Susan was the seat next to me in English class. She was also incredibly smart. And attractive. _Why __would she talk __to me? _I wondered.

"Uh, who? Jack?"

"Yeah. I didn't think the pauper was allowed out on his own." I grinned at her use of my nickname. My family was middle class but compared to Jack's family (whose favorite sport was writing checks), we were indeed paupers.

"He doesn't own me, Susan. Besides, a pauper like myself can handle the streets," I joked. She giggled.

"I'm sure you can. It's not like Jack Mitchell to miss a party though."

"He's here."

"I haven't seen him yet."

"That's because he's off...um...well...socializing..." _Stop talking, Ken! _I warned myself. _Shut up! _"Upstairs. With a lady," I blurted out. I immediately felt my face flush. _Why did I tell her that?_ I wanted to smack myself upside the head.

"I see," she giggled, taking a sip of her drink. "And you're down here because..."

"Jack is my ride. I can't leave until he's...ya know, done." I smiled awkwardly.

"You mean you don't have yourself a lady? With eyes like that?" Susan looked me up and down. I shrugged.

_Wait. Is she flirting with me? What do I say? Should I do something?_ I took a long sip of my beer while I thought of a reply.

"Nope." _That sounds pathetic, __Hutchinson__!__ Nope?_ _Really? _I shook my head.

"I think you could remedy that fact. Why don't you call me sometime?" She handed me a napkin with her number on it. Maybe this party wouldn't be a total waste. This girl seemed to like me for some reason. Who was I to question it?

"I just might do that, Susan." She smiled and walked away. _I'm glad I came after all. _I leaned against the wall and finished my beer. It felt good to have finals behind me and a date ahead of me.

**Sunday, ****December 2****4****th****,**** 1961**

It had snowed last night so it was up to me to shovel the driveway before church. I planned to call Susan this afternoon. I had just finished when I heard someone come up behind me. I turned around to see Nancy Blake standing there in her snow gear. The Blake family had lived next door to us for as long as I could remember.

"Morning, Ken!"

"Nancy! I was just going to start on your driveway." Nancy's dad had passed away a few years back. I tried to help them out with odd jobs whenever I could. Nancy was a freshman this year and had been my friend since she was in diapers.

"You don't have to. Mass starts later than your church's service." The Blake's were devout Catholics. The Hutchinson's weren't which, according to Mrs. Blake, was our biggest downfall.

"How about we work on it together?" I offered. Nancy smiled and nodded. Between the two of us, her driveway was done in minutes. I sat down on her porch steps and surveyed our progress.

"Don't you have to go in?"

"Pretty soon I'm going to have to put on a tie. I was hoping to delay doing that, so let's talk."

"I guess this will probably be the last winter before you head off to college, huh?" Nancy asked, sitting down beside me.

"Probably. Unless I decide to join the Navy instead."

"I didn't know the Navy was still in the running."

"Maybe. I'm still thinking about it."

"You have always liked the sea. Remember that time you wanted to be a Sea Scout? You paid me two bucks to help you type up all those letters you wrote!" We both laughed at the memory.

"And it worked too! I did get to be a Sea Scout!" It had been one of my greatest accomplishments to date.

"I think they just let you in because they were tired of you writing them!" I nudged her with my shoulder.

"Oh please, Nancy. They let me in because my persuasive essay skills were absolutely magnificent."

"Whatever you want to tell yourself. You know what I would do if I were you?"

"What?"

"College. The Navy will always be there, but school might be easier if you go straight away. If you join the Navy and it doesn't work out, then you're back where you started," she explained.

"Any other advice, great sage of Duluth?" Nancy slugged me in the arm. I grinned back at her.

"You want to know something else? College is probably safer than the Navy. I'd feel better if my next -door neighbor and friend wasn't in danger of getting shot at."

"I'll take that into consideration." I smiled and headed back home. Maybe Nancy was right. What she said did make sense. I could always join the Navy after college or not at all. I didn't have to decide right now.

**Monday, January 8th, 1962 **

The holidays had come and gone and now it was back to life as usual. Except for the fact that I was now waiting to enter the principal's office. I couldn't think of any good reason for my presence to be requested. However, I was told to go straight there by my teacher when I'd walked into class this morning, so here I was. _What could I have done? It's only the first day back! I don't think I did anything bad before Christmas break either. _My head was spinning trying to come up with a logical explanation. _Maybe I can blame Jack? _Before I could go over the list of Jack's exploits that I might be blamed for, the door opened. Principal Nicholson called me into his office. He was a man of about sixty-five with thick glasses and gray hair. He had a reputation for being anything but lenient. I gulped as I sat down in a chair across from his desk.

"Good morning, Kenneth."

"Good morning, sir." I squirmed in my seat, hoping he'd get to the point.

"I'm sure you are wondering why you are here."

"Uh...yes."_ Please tell me! Why am I here?_

"I thought it would be best to inform you personally," he paused as he took a sheet of paper from a file and slid it over to me, "You had the highest grades last semester, and the highest GPA overall. You are this year's valedictorian." I waited for his words to sink in. I felt as if I'd suddenly been hit by a ton of bricks.

"Me?" I was dumbfounded. _How?_

"You are a part of the class of 1962, correct?" Principal Nicholson asked. I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. I nodded.

"Sorry. I guess I'm...shocked. Thank you, sir."

"Thank you for being such a studious pupil. You can begin working on your valediction anytime now. You may go back to class now. Congratulations, Kenneth."

He didn't have to tell me twice. I got up and left as fast as I could. I walked down the empty hallway. I was still in shock. I slid down to sit against the wall. I needed a minute to think. That's when I remembered the last thing Principal Nicholson had said. _You can begin working on your valediction anytime now. Valediction. __That means __speech. _The fog in my brain cleared. _Speech._ I was dreading it already.

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**Note: In this story, the valedictorian in determined after first semester finals in December. However, some schools wait until May after the second semester finals to do this. For the purposes of this story, December worked better. It has been done both ways though, depending on the school.**

**Please leave a review and let me know what you think! I love hearing from all of you!**


	2. Chapter 2: Breaking The News

**Note: Vic Rankin (Losing Streak) and Hutch's lifeguard experience (The Las Vegas Strangler) are mentioned. Watching these episodes isn't required to understand this story though.**

**Chapter 2: Breaking the News**

**Monday, ****January ****8****th****,**** 1962**

I couldn't concentrate on any of my classes. I was too busy thinking about what had happened in the principal's office that morning. _Why me? How?_ I was still confused. I wasn't sure why I was valedictorian. Surely someone else had higher grades than me. I'd studied hard, but I didn't think I'd had studied _that _hard.

When lunchtime rolled around, Jack was at our usual table in the corner. I sat down across from him and emptied the contents of the lunch I'd packed.

"Hey, Hutch! Want a carrot?" he greeted me. Jack hated carrots, but somehow always ended up with at least one in his lunch. I nodded and took it from him, just like I had almost every day for going on four years.

"Thanks. How's your first day back going?"

"Great! I've decided who I'm asking to the prom," Jack declared.

"It's January. Prom isn't until April."

"So? I'm a planner, Hutch. I know what I want and what I want is to take Heather to Senior Prom."

"Good for you." I took a bite out of my apple and wondered if I should tell Jack about my eventful morning.

"How are things with you and Susan?"Jack asked. I had been out with her a couple of times now and Jack wouldn't leave me alone about it.

"Things are going fine, I guess. She's nice and she's not one of your rejects," I responded. I refused to date anyone Jack had been out with. The girls he went for weren't exactly my type.

"You guess? What's that supposed to mean? Have you and her not-"

"Jack, stop! I don't wanna talk about it!" I interrupted. I didn't want to talk about girls when I had this valedictorian thing hanging over me. _I have to tell him. Now._

"Fine, I'll take that as a no. Figures," he mumbled. I ignored the insult. "What's got you in such a mood?"

"I got called to the principal's office this morning, Jack."

"What'd ya' do now? Violate the dress code?" he teased.

"Nothing! I didn't get in trouble."

"So, what's the big deal?" Jack asked as he took a long sip of his drink.

"I'm valedictorian." _There! I said it! Done!_ He choked and nearly spit out his Coke.

"What?!You gotta be kidding!" He laughed.

"I'm not. Principal Nicholson said it was me." Jack's face turned serious as he quickly gathered his things and stood up.

"How about that? See ya later, Hutch," Jack spat as he walked off.

I could tell he was disappointed. I knew being valedictorian was his dream. I felt bad that I had taken it away from him. _What am I supposed to do, though? It's not like I wanted to be valedictorian. _I sighed as I bit into my sandwich. This was going to be an interesting day.

After school, I walked outside and looked around for Jack. I spotted him leaning against the hood of his car, talking to Heather. I waved. I knew I was in his line of vision, but he ignored me. G_uess I'm walking home,_ I thought, pulling my coat tighter around me. Kirsten's car was in the shop, so I'd let her borrow mine to go to college. The high school was closer to home and I'd figured I could get a ride with Jack. I had figured wrong. I dug my hat out of my bag and pulled it on. The hat was suitable for in the car, but not walking home in the cold. My ears would probably be freezing by the time I got home anyway. Duluth winters were brutal. I thought about how I would break the news to my family as I trudged through the snow.

I'd finally made it home and inside when I heard someone in the kitchen. I looked at my watch. It was too early for anyone to be home. I took off my boots and carefully opened the kitchen door. Kirsten was stirring a bowl of something.

"Kirsten! You're home early!" I exclaimed.

"Yep, class let out early. You look cold. Did you walk here?" I nodded and shivered. "You should have called, Ken. I've been home since 2:30, I could have picked you up. Want some hot chocolate?" She set down the bowl and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet.

"Sure, thanks. What's in the bowl?"

"Brownies. Be a good boy and stir 'em for me would ya? The oven will be ready in just a minute." I obeyed.

"Double chocolate? What's the occasion?"

"Do I need an occasion to make brownies?" Kirsten paused her hot chocolate making to hand me the brownie pan.

"I suppose not, but I have something kinda brownie worthy," I told her as I scooped the batter into the pan.

"Oh?"

"Turns out I'm this year's valedictorian."

"Really?! That's amazing, Kenny!" I smiled, glad Kirsten was reacting better than Jack had.

"Yeah, it's wild. I still don't believe it!" I slid the pan into the oven and accepted my mug from her.

"Who knew you had it in ya, half-pint? My little brother, valedictorian!" She smiled and patted my shoulder.

"That's actually why I ended up walking home," I admitted.

"What do you mean?" Kirsten's face wrinkled in confusion, a dent forming in between her eyebrows.

"Jack really wanted to be valedictorian. He was set on it. Had his speech all planned and everything. When I told him he got mad. He blew me off after school too." I sighed and sipped my hot chocolate.

"Why should he be mad at you?"

"I don't know. Jack is...well, Jack. You know how he is."

"He's not used to things not working out for him, I suppose." Kirsten speculated. I nodded in agreement. Kirsten got people. She always seemed to see both sides of any issue. That's why I hadn't waited to tell her my news with the rest of my family.

"Should I apologize?"

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong. I'd talk to him though if I were you. Explain things. Jack is your best friend. He'll cool off and get over it."

"You're probably right."

"I usually am. It's because of my two extra years of life experience," Kirsten teased as she placed her mug in the sink.

"Oh, yeah right!" I walked over to rinse out my mug and nudged her with my hip. She hit the stream of water with her hand, flinging it onto my shirt. I tried to grab her but she was too fast. She ran around the table, using it as a barrier. I faked right, hoping Kirsten would fall for it. Unfortunately, she was wise to my tricks after eighteen years of living in the same household. She grabbed me from behind and started tickling me. I fell to the floor and tried to defend myself. I almost had her pinned when the kitchen door opened. We both scrambled off one another. I tried to stand up, but my foot caught on a chair leg. I fell on Kirsten, returning us to a tangle of arms and legs on the floor.

"What's going on?" our mother questioned. She stepped over us to put the groceries away.

"Kirsten started it!"

"Kenny's a liar!"

"I don't care who started it, get off the floor before I trip over you." Kirsten and I obeyed. Our mother tolerated some horseplay, but we knew when to quit.

"Sorry," we mumbled in unison.

"Will both of you children set the table for me?" Mom asked, handing Kirsten a stack of plates. I grabbed a handful of silverware and set about my task.

An hour and a half later, we were all at the table for supper. Dad was telling us about some new machine they had at work. I tried to listen as I made a fort with my mashed potatoes. I waited for a break in the conversation so I could tell my parents the news.

"Anything interesting happen at school today?" Kirsten asked, obviously setting me up. I glared at her.

"Not much. I did find out I'm the valedictorian though," I said, trying to sound casual. Mom's face lit up.

"Kenneth, that's wonderful!"

"Good job, son," Dad said, slapping me on the back.

"Thanks." I stared down at my mashed potato fort, unsure what to say next.

"Your father and I are so proud of you!" Mom exclaimed, coming around the table to give me a hug. I smiled. I usually hated attention, but it felt good to be praised.

"Turns out half-pint isn't such a half-wit after all!" Kirsten offered.

I shot her a look as I demolished my mashed potatoes. _At least three out of four people I told are happy for me,_ I thought. _Kirsten's right. I should talk to Jack. __Tonight._

At 9:36 PM I found myself on Jack's front porch. I knocked on the door. I couldn't let the day end without at least trying to patch things up. I shivered as I waited for someone to answer my knock. The Mitchell's staff had gone home hours ago. Finally, his mom opened the massive door.

"Ken! Nice to see you!"

"Nice to see you too, Mrs. Mitchell. Jack here?"

"Yes, he's upstairs in his room. May I take your coat?" Mrs. Mitchell was one of those people who dripped sophistication. She always seemed organized and put together. I nodded and handed her my coat. I made my way upstairs to find Jack. He was in his room flipping through a magazine about cars. I knocked on the door frame.

"Hey, Jack." I hoped he'd cooled off.

"What are you doing here?" He hadn't.

"I...uh...Look, I don't know why you're mad at me!" I said without thinking. I hadn't intended to start coming off as defensive.

"Hutch, you know exactly why!" He threw the magazine on his bedside table.

"Because I happened to be valedictorian?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"You knew I wanted that title!"

"I didn't know I even had a chance at it! I barely got a B in math last year!" I tried to explain.

"I don't care about your B, Hutch!"

"What was I supposed to do, Jack? Make sure my grades were all lower than yours? Play hooky on test day? I didn't ask for this! They just told me! If I could abdicate the high school valedictorian throne, I would!"

"Really?" Jack asked. He seemed skeptical now, rather than mad. That was a good sign.

"You think I wanna make a speech in front of all those people? Come on, you know me better than that!" I waited for him to answer, my hands on my hips. I felt like a mother scolding her immature child. Jack was being ridiculous.

"All right, fine! It's not your fault you're smarter than me!" Jack replied, a faint hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Are we good then?" I asked, daring him to keep arguing. He nodded, not taking the bait. I internally sighed with relief. I sat down next to him on the bed.

"Thanks for coming over, Hutch. Sorry I got so mad at you. I know you didn't mean to beat me out of anything. I dunno what came over me."

"You were disappointed. I mean, you did already have your speech written." Jack laughed at my teasing.

"I guess I tend to count my chickens before they hatch, huh?"

_That's the understatement of the year. _"You sure do," I agreed.

"But you don't count them even after they hatch."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"You don't plan. You just wait for life to happen to you. Then, when it does, it's like you're shocked or something," he elaborated. I thought it over for a second before I said anything. Jack wasn't trying to insult me. He was making an observation, expressing an abstract thought. I had got through to him in our study sessions after all.

"I do. I should herd my chickens more often."

"Hutch. What?" Jack was confused.

"Gather my thoughts, make decisions, do something with the cards I've been dealt, that sort of thing." I hoped my point was coming across. Jack still looked confused. I sighed. Jack was my best friend, but sometimes I felt like he didn't really get me at all.

"I thought we were talking about chickens? Anyway, since you're here, how about you and Susan?" Jack inquired grinning devilishly.

"I don't want to discuss it." I tried not to smile. I really liked Susan, but I didn't want Jack to know that yet.

"You like her, don't you?" Jack looked me in the eye. I kept silent. "Have you even kissed her yet?"

"We've only gone out twice!" I felt myself blush.

"You haven't? Boy, what are you doing?"

"Not making out with Susan," I mumbled. Jack frowned.

"If I were you I'd-"

"Well, you aren't. Night, Jack!" I interrupted, standing up to leave before he had the chance to make me even more uncomfortable. It had been a long day and I was in no mood for Jack to criticize my love life.

I let myself out into the cold. I got in my car and turned on the heater. It didn't help much. Kirsten had informed me it had quit on her this morning. Now, it only worked occasionally. It finally got halfway bearable when I got home. Dad had been on my case to get my car checked over before winter, but I hadn't listened. I was beginning to think he'd been on to something.

**Saturday, February 10th, 1962**

Valentine's Day was fast approaching, which meant that Jack was even more girl crazy than usual. He pestered me endlessly about my plans with Susan for the holiday. I hadn't told him anything, which annoyed him greatly. We were in my living room listening to records when he tried once again to drag the information out of me.

"You are going to take her out, aren't you? Dinner? A movie?"

"Jack, you are interrupting the music."

"It's jazz, it was made to be interrupted! Now what are you gonna do? It's four days away!"

"It's not just jazz! It's Vic Rankin! Now shut up and listen!" I laid back on the couch and tried to focus on the music.

"Vic Rankin would probably tell his friend where he was taking his girl for Valentine's Day," Jack grumbled. I sat up and looked over at him. He was slumped in a chair pretending to read the newspaper.

"You really want to know?" I knew he did. Jack hated not being in the know just as much as I loved keeping him in the dark. He nodded. "All right, I'll tell you. I don't have plans because I'm not taking her out."

"You're kidding. Did you guys break up?" Jack sat up straighter.

"Nope. I'm just not taking her out for Valentine's Day."

"Why not?" He leaned forward.

"Why should I? We've only been going out for a couple months. Besides, I refuse to participate in Valentine's Day." Jack rolled his eyes.

"Don't tell me this is one of those things you've researched!" he complained.

"It is! Our society has strayed far from the original concept of St. Valentine's Day. What used to be a feast in honor of a martyr is now an excuse for cheap marketing and commercialism preying on folks' sentiments for a quick profit," I explained as Jack groaned and buried his head in a pillow.

"Who cares? Girls dig it! Do you want to die alone, Ken?"

"I hardly think it will come to that just because I don't celebrate some holiday."

"Yeah, Hutch! Maybe Susan won't dump you because you didn't do anything for Valentine's Day. She'll dump you because she got tired of your lectures about why you didn't do anything for Valentine's Day!"

"I doubt that. Anyone thinking critically can see that the foundational basis-"

"Shut up, Professor Hutchinson! You're interrupting the jazz!" he butted in. It was my turn to roll my eyes.

**Wednesday, February 14th, 1962**

Valentine's Day was here, and I hadn't seen Jack all day. Heather seemed to be absent as well. I didn't have to be a detective to figure out the correlation. Susan had joined me at my usual table for lunch.

"Got any plans tonight, Ken?" Susan asked, clearly hinting. She had been hinting all week.

"I have to fix the heater on my car," I replied. It was true. I planned to read my car's manual and try to figure it out myself. It was also an excuse not to address today's significance.

"It's Valentine's Day," she tried again.

"I know. It's supposed to be cold tomorrow, so I want to get it fixed tonight." I felt bad about disappointing her, but I had to stick to my principles. She frowned. "Tell you what, we'll go see a movie this weekend. Just you and me." I smiled in an attempt to sweeten the deal. _Please say yes!_

"Okay, but if you postpone me for that beater of yours again, we're going to talk about it!" she warned me.

"Yes, ma'am!"

That evening I was reading through my car's manual and paperwork in my room. So far, I had learned quite a bit. I learned what type of engine I had, what color the seat fabric was advertised as, and that my car had about six expired warranties. I had voided three of those myself. Apparently, car maintenance was something I didn't care to make time for. I had bought my car used with the money I'd earned from lifeguarding. It was too old to be current and not old enough to be a classic. It was a car though and it was mine. That was good enough.

After an hour of searching for anything related to the heater that made sense, I decided to give up and ask Dad. I walked down the hall and was about to go downstairs when I overheard my parents talking. I stopped at the top of the stairs and listened.

"I'm worried about Ken," my mom said.

"Why? Did something happen?" my dad asked.

"No, I'm just concerned about his valedictorian speech. Every time I ask him about it, he avoids the question."

"He probably hasn't even thought about it yet. You know how Ken procrastinates."

Dad wasn't wrong. I had avoided thinking about my speech. _I should probably think about that soon._I also did tend to procrastinate on things I wasn't passionate about.

"That's not what I mean. He still has a few months to think about it. What I'm saying is that I'm worried about how he'll do. He's a smart boy, but public speaking has never been his strength," she explained.

"Jack is good at speeches, he'll help Ken. He'll do fine."

_I wouldn't count on me doing fine if I were you, Dad._

"Ken is still shy though." I could hear the concern in her voice. While it was true that Jack had helped push me to be more outgoing, I still wasn't comfortable speaking publicly. Or even privately in some scenarios.

"He's going to have to get over that if he wants to go anywhere in this world."

_Get over __it?__ Yeah right! __As if that were possible!_

"Jack has been good for him. He used to be worse before Jack came around."

_Worse? __Am I that bad?__ Does my mother think there's something wrong with me? _I leaned my head against the wall. I didn't want to hear this.

"I'm more concerned with his lack of decision on colleges. All he's done is get information. He needs to apply and decide where he's going in the fall," Dad said.

"Yes, he does. Maybe you should talk to him about that."

"I intend to. He also needs to pick a major. He seems to be at a standstill on that too."

"He's interested in a lot of things. He's probably having trouble narrowing it down to one."

"So was I when I was his age, but engineering stood out. Surely, he has a favorite," Dad stated. The truth was I didn't. I liked the idea of a few different things, but none of them were an obvious choice. I didn't want to settle for something I'd end up hating. I regretted eavesdropping, but I couldn't pull myself away.

"I'm sure he must, even if he hasn't decided yet. I agree that he needs some encouragement."

_Encouragement? More like pressure!__ As if I didn't have enough __already__ with school and this stupid speech! Not to mention Susan! __Or Jack, he'__s always bugging me about one thing or another! __Do they really think I'm some pathetic slacker who can't make a decision? __What if I am? Clearly I'm on my way!_

I wanted to go downstairs and give my parents a piece of my mind. I wanted to tell them to stay out of my business and leave me alone. I was too young to make these kinds of decisions. I didn't want to concern myself with the future. I wanted to storm out of the house and run until my lungs gave out. I wished I was eight-years-old again, my biggest worry being what Nancy, Kirsten, and I were going to play. But it was too cold to run, and I wasn't eight years old anymore. I was eighteen and it was time to be an adult.

I silently walked back to my room and parked myself on the floor. I reached under the bed and pulled out the box I'd shoved all my information from colleges into weeks ago. I set it on my desk on top of the car paperwork and promised myself tomorrow would be the day. The day I would apply for college. I didn't need _encouragement _from anyone. I needed to make progress and I needed to do it on my own terms.


	3. Chapter 3: Preparations

**Thank you for reading this story! Also, thanks to Hutch-is-gorgeous for beta reading it. Hopefully you all will enjoy this chapter. What do you think will happen next?**

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**Chapter 3: Preparations**

**Thursday, February 15th, 1962**

I waited impatiently for school to be over. I needed to get to the post office. I'd spent lunch in my car, filling out the last of my college applications. I had done the rest early this morning. I hoped I hadn't made any mistakes, but considering it was somewhere around four in the morning when I'd started, I wasn't counting on it.

Now, I was sitting in class counting down the minutes until freedom. I had avoided Jack all day. It wasn't as hard as I was expecting it to be. I guessed it was because of yesterday's holiday. Susan and I didn't have any of the same classes this semester, so I was able to avoid her too. It's not that I disliked either one of them, but I was feeling anti-social today. I had a mission to complete and I couldn't rest until it was done. _Five minutes to go. Pay attention, Hutchinson! _I told myself. _This will probably be on a test or something. _I tried to focus on what Mr. Turner was saying, but I honestly didn't care right now. _I'll need stamps. I hope I have enough cash. I should check before I leave. I bought that shirt the other day, how much was- _The bell rang, putting an end to my thoughts as well as the school day. I gathered my books and ran out to the parking lot. I threw everything in the backseat and headed off to the post office.

When I got home, I kicked off my shoes at the door and went to the living room. Kirsten was sitting on the floor, homework in organized stacks in front of her. Mom was reading the paper.

"I mailed my college applications," I announced. They both looked up at me. Mom smiled.

"Good, I was wondering when you were going to do that," she said. She almost looked surprised.

_I bet you were. I heard what you __and Dad __said about me. _

"How many did you apply to?" Kirsten asked.

"I don't know, most of the ones I had information from. I didn't bother with Florida though. Too hot and humid."

"Why so many?"

"I figured I might as well know all my options," I explained. "I'll only hear back from a few I bet."

"Have you selected a major yet?" Mom asked.

"No, but I put down a couple I think I might want to do."

"Which are?"

"I don't remember, Mom. Anyway, I got homework I need to start on before supper." I turned and practically ran upstairs. I didn't have urgent homework. I just wanted to get out of the conversation. I didn't want to tell my family what I had decided to major in yet. Or rather that I hadn't yet decided what to major in. I had put down a few different things on the applications, but I wasn't set on any of them. I figured that's what college advisors were for. I could worry about a major later. College wasn't until fall. I had time.

**Sunday, March 4th, 1962 **

Spring Break was this week. Jack's family was going to Virginia Beach. I had been invited to tag along, but I'd declined the offer. I wanted to spend some time with my family before summer jobs, college and who knows what prevented me. It was finally starting to sink in that I was almost done with high school. I knew that when I was, life would never be the same. Even if I stayed in Duluth and went to UMD like Kirsten, it would still be different. The days of family suppers with everyone were numbered. They had become less frequent already due to our varying schedules.

This afternoon, Kirsten and I had decided to go hiking. She had found this particular trail with one of her friends from college and was dying to show it to me. It was cool, but not too cold outside, so we'd decided today was the day. It was a really beautiful trail through the woods, even though the signs of spring were still faint. It felt good to get outside without having to bundle up for a polar expedition. It was nice to spend time with my sister too. I didn't get to do that very often these days.

"Wanna race up this next hill?" Kirsten asked with a smile on her face.

"So I can beat you?"

"I wouldn't count on that, half-pint!"

"I'll take that chance. You're on!" I broke into a sprint, getting a head start.

"Hey! Cheater!" Kirsten protested as she ran, trying to catch up. I dodged around a puddle and narrowly avoided tripping over a tree root. I could hear Kirsten right behind me. The hill was steeper than it looked. When I got to the top, I threw myself down on a fallen log. Kirsten joined me a half second later.

"I win!" I grinned, panting.

"Only because you cheated!" she admonished. I smiled bigger.

"Did not! Score one for baby Hutchinson!" I held up one finger in triumph.

"An illegal head start is cheating, and your legs are a lot longer than mine. How tall are you now, anyway?"

"Around six feet. I'm beating you on the growing too!" I laid down on the log, still trying to catch my breath.

"I don't think that's a fair competition either, Kenny," she said. I chuckled.

I loved arguing over stupid things with Kirsten. It was pointless, but it was so much fun. _I'll miss it if I end up leaving, _I thought sadly. It was one of the reasons I hated the idea of growing up sometimes. I didn't want things to change.

"So, college. Can't believe you're old enough for that," Kirsten remarked, looking out at the scenery.

"Me neither. Didn't I just start first grade?"

"I remember when you were born."

"You were only two. How can you possibly-"

"It was kind of a big deal. It stuck out to me. You were this tiny little blond thing that cried a lot and couldn't play with me."

"You hated me, didn't you?" I nudged her.

"Nope. Quite the opposite, actually. You were sorta cute."

"Were?" I questioned.

"Well...Mom might still think so. You were such an interesting novelty. Then, you grew a bit and started having a personality. That was a bit rough sometimes." We both smiled, remembering. We'd had our fair share of sibling squabbles, but we'd always patched things up in the end.

"Where'd that time go? And how is it March already?" It felt as if the world was moving at twice it's normal speed since senior year started.

"I know! You're gonna be making your valedictorian speech before you know it."

"Don't remind me." I sighed. "I haven't even started on it yet."

"Why not?" she asked.

"I don't want to do it. I hate that kind of thing. You know how I get."

"It's not a huge deal. Just keep it short and sweet. You'll survive," she advised.

"Easy for you to say, little miss extrovert!" Kirsten had always been more outgoing than me.

"Point taken. But really, try not to worry about it. You have enough other things to occupy your mind at the moment, like college."

"I know. I heard back from one. It was a no."

"Sorry."

"It's all right. I didn't want to move to Kentucky anyway. Too many chiggers!" I shuddered dramatically.

"Are you hoping for a certain one to accept you?"

"Not really. I don't know what I want honestly," I told her, not bothering to hide the frustration in my voice.

"I think that's your issue. It was hard for me too. I didn't know either at first. I thought for sure I wanted to move away for school, go someplace new and exciting. Then, I got accepted at UMD and decided I'd stay. Eighteen is really young. You have to decide what you want, but that takes time. More time than one school year."

"Yeah. Sometimes I think that if people quit asking me about my plans, the planning might go better," I admitted.

"I know what you mean. The pressure doesn't help and then you're expected to deal with other things too."

"Like grades, family, job, extracurriculars, and relationships."

"Exactly! Speaking of, are you still seeing that girl? Susan?" I nodded. "She seems nice. How's that going?"

"Fine. I think she's over the fact that I ignored Valentine's Day."

"That was risky."

"That's what Jack told me, but she still said yes to another date."

"So, are things getting serious?" Kirsten shifted to sit Indian style on the log, facing me.

"I don't know. Define serious," I asked.

"Like is she a candidate for the future Mrs. Hutchinson?" She raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"No, I'm way too young for that!" I snorted.

"Okay, maybe that's a bit premature. Do you see you two lasting after graduation?"

"I hadn't really thought about it," I admitted. "Kind of like a lot of other things after graduation..."

"Look, you don't know where life is going to take you yet. You could be at UMD with me in the fall or some other state far away. But I don't think it's really that important where you go, Kenny. You're in charge of your own future now. You have to decide who you're going to be. It took me a long time to realize that." Kirsten stood up and offered me a hand. I took it and let her pull me to my feet.

"I'll keep that in mind, Kirsten. Thanks." _I really will. _She had a way of making the gears turn in my head. It was helpful at times, but it also forced me to take a good hard look at myself.

"Race you back down?" Kirsten challenged me. I nodded. I wouldn't cheat this time. We both laughed as we ran full speed back to the car. We both touched the hood at the same time.

"Tie!" we shouted in unison. _I am going to miss this. __Big time._

**Friday, March 16****th****, 1962**

Prom was in thirty-five days. The only reason I knew that was because of Jack. He was obsessed. He was campaigning hardcore for prom king and trying desperately to get me to care. He had tried to get me to care about every school dance since the fateful square dance first date fiasco in ninth grade. I had found a good excuse not to go to all of the dances since. I'd almost ran out of excuses when junior prom rolled around last year. Luckily, I was blessed with the flu two days prior, so I got to stay home. Jack and Susan were both on the planning committee this time. They were talking about it now, as I was trying to eat my lunch in peace.

"I think the decorations are going to be great," Susan said.

"So is the food. We even decided to have a tray of vegetables for people like Hutch here," Jack added.

"Isn't that great, Ken?" Susan asked.

"Sure. I heard the food is usually all sugar and processed garbage," I replied.

"I'm the one who wants to be a doctor and he's the one all worried about health," Jack teased. Susan giggled.

"Veggies have done him some good though. Just look at him!" She looked at me appreciatively. I felt my ears redden. I hated being complimented. I never knew how to react.

"Uh..." I struggled to come up with something to say. Jack saved me.

"Maybe I should eat my carrots too. Then I'll have to be prom king! What are you going to wear, Hutch?"

"Jack, I don't even know what I'm wearing tomorrow! Why would I know what I'm wearing over a month from now?"

"I would like to know what you're wearing too. I need to buy my dress," Susan added. "I gotta go. I'm supposed to meet with the yearbook committee before lunch is over. See you later, Ken." I waved goodbye to Susan and returned to my lunch.

"I take it you asked her?" Jack asked. I set my sandwich down and shot him a look.

"No. We're dating, so it's reasonable to just assume were going together. Now will you please stop talking about this stupid dance so I can eat without getting indigestion?"

"Excuse me for being invested in high school culture! It's the last one ever! Why not enjoy it? Oh, I forgot to tell you! I asked Heather and she said yes! I think she might be voted prom queen. Wouldn't that be something? If we were both-"

"Jack! Enough!" I pointed at him. "You have to stop talking about anything prom related for the rest of the day. It's just an event. An excuse to get dressed up and pretend we're more important than we are. And don't even get me started on prom royalty! It's just a dumb popularity contest! It's practically designed to make people feel less than-"

"Who's going on about it now? Shut up and eat your vegetables!" Jack interrupted.

**Friday, April 13****th****, 1962**

I reached into the mailbox and pulled out the mail. I leafed through it, looking for anything of interest. _Junk, Mom's, Kirsten's, Dad's, Dad's, junk... Mine! _I smiled as I stared at the envelope. It was from a college I had applied to. I had received answers from most of them so far, but there were still a couple I was waiting on. I hadn't opened most of them yet. I'd decided after the second one came that I would wait and open the others all at once. Today's would go into the box under my bed.

I heard a car door slam in the direction of the Blake's house. I watched Nancy struggling to unload a stack of boxes from her mother's car. I put the mail back in the box and jogged over to help.

"Need some help there?" I offered. Nancy's cheeks turned red as she nodded. I grabbed two of the boxes from the top of the stack she was carrying. They weren't heavy, just awkward.

"Thanks, Ken. I could use it! I kind of went on a shopping spree this afternoon!" She unlocked her front door and went inside. I followed.

"Did you buy half the store?" I asked. Nancy giggled.

"No, just a prom dress or two," she corrected me.

"Two?"

"I found next year's dress too! And shoes for both! Isn't that great?" Nancy set the boxes on the kitchen table. I did the same with mine.

"Hooray?" I was confused as to why she was so excited.

"They were on sale, okay? Buy one get one half off. See?" Nancy pulled the lids off the two boxes containing the dresses. I didn't know anything about dresses, but they looked nice. One was a pale purple and the other was light blue.

"Very nice. Great deal. Very modern. The purple one says, 'I'm fancy and I demand respect'. The blue one says, 'I want to have fun, but not too much fun'. Very bold statements. Brave choice," I teased. She frowned.

"Stop it! I'm excited I even get to go. Now don't rain on my parade!" Nancy was a freshman, which meant that she could only go to prom if an upperclassmen asked her.

"I'm not! I'm happy for you, really. You'll be the most _de_ _moda_, _hermosa_ _reina_ there!"

"Are you still teasing me? What does that mean in English, Ken?" Nancy demanded.

"Fashionable, beautiful queen." I smiled at her.

"Honestly?" She smiled back.

"Ask my junior year Spanish teacher if you don't believe me. Who are you going with again?"

"Jimmy Stanton! He asked me last week."

"Good for him! I hope you have a great time. I gotta go. Unless you have more grunt work you need me to do?" Nancy giggled and shook her head no.

Once I had retrieved the mail, I headed up to my room. I pulled the box out from under my bed and added this one to the growing stack of potential acceptance or rejection letters. I jumped as Kirsten startled me.

"You ever gonna open those?"

"Eventually."

"What are you waiting for?"

"The last minute," I joked.

"Obviously. But you're going to have to do it sooner or later. Why wait?" Kirsten asked.

"I'll do it soon," I answered. _W__hy am I waiting? __Shouldn't I just get it over with? Like I did with sending them out. Just take a block of time and do it until it's done._

"Supper's ready by the way. I'll eat all your pancakes if you don't hurry up and come down!" She threatened, leaving my room.

That night, I couldn't sleep. _Putting it off is pointless, _I thought. It was time. I suddenly had to know what those letters said. I switched on my bedside lamp, then leaned over the side of my bed until I found the box I was looking for. I pulled it up on top of the blankets and opened the lid. I ripped open the first one and began reading. I skipped to the first line that mattered:

_Dear Mr. K. Hutchinson,_

_After careful consideration by our admissions department, we regret to inform you that we are_

_unable to offer you a place at our university for the 1962-1963 school year._

I stopped and sighed. I wasn't particularly disappointed, but starting on a negative note wasn't helping my mood. _Guess I won't be going there then. _I reached back into the box on my lap and chose the next one. It was from UMD. _This one has to be an acceptance...Right?_ I opened it and read. I was right, it was an acceptance letter. I was relieved that staying local was still an option. I continued reading them until there was only one left. So far, I had four rejections and three acceptances. Two of the acceptances had offered me some form of academic scholarships. I stared at the return address on the final letter and tried to remember why I had applied to somewhere so far away. _This must have been my wild card. I don't think I'd ever actually go there. Why bother opening it? _I tore open the letter anyway. I was curious. I read the usual introductory lines and discovered I had been accepted._Hey, that's neat. Probably still won't go there, but neat!_ I read further. I dropped the letter in shock. I couldn't believe what I had just read. They had offered me a full ride for the first year. It was the best offer I had by far. _If only it wasn't over 2,000 miles away...__Then, I might consider taking it. _I put the letter back in the box and put it back under the bed. I knew what my choices were now. I had three, four if I counted the wild card, and three if I wanted any kind of scholarship. I had hoped things would be clearer once I knew what schools were an option, but I still felt lost.

I turned off the light and laid back down. I managed to push the thoughts of what college to go with away, but different thoughts came. Except this time, they were about what Kirsten had said over a month ago. _You're in charge of your own future now._ _You have to decide who you're going to be. _Her words had been echoing in my mind for a while now. _Who do I want to be? __What do I want? _I let my thoughts go to my relationship with Susan. I remembered what my sister had asked me. _Do you see you two lasting after graduation? _I had told her I wasn't sure, but deep down I knew that was a lie. It was time to be honest with myself. _I don't._ I knew what I had to do. _I have to end things with Susan._


	4. Chapter 4: Prom And Other Problems

**Sorry I took so long to get this up! Hopefully it is worth the wait. Leave a review and let me know what your favorite part is so far. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 4: Prom And Other Problems**

**Monday, April 16th, 1962**

I sat in the diner waiting for Susan. This was the night I would end things. I had taken the weekend to think things over. I did like her, but I couldn't see a future with her. The deep connection just wasn't there. I didn't want to chase a shallow high school relationship that would die soon anyway due to graduation. _How should I do it? You don't want to hurt her. It's not you, it's me? Too cliché. It's not fair __of me to__ tie you down? __Too patronizing. I don't like you __anymore__? Too dishonest._ I sighed. _How am I gonna do this? _I had broken up with someone before, but she had given me an easily justifiable reason. Susan hadn't. It really was me, not her. I pulled out my watch and checked the time. She was supposed to meet me here any minute. I tried to put on my best happy face as she walked in.

"Hi, Ken!" Susan greeted me.

"Susan! I was beginning to wonder if you stood me up!" I joked, trying to ease my own tension. She laughed and sat down across from me. _Why does she have to look especially pretty tonight?_

"I would never dream of it! You ordered yet?"

"No, I was afraid the food would get cold while I waited on you." _My stomach is i__n__ too many knots to eat anyway._

"Wanna split a milkshake for dessert?" she asked, smiling.

"Sure-" I started, then corrected myself, "Whatever." I would not make this harder. _Be honest, Ken. Don't give the impression yo__u're still interested. _I tried to remember that as we ate our meal. I listened quietly to her talk about the yearbook, prom, her cat's latest antics, and whatever else was going on in her life. I didn't catch many details of what she was saying though. I was too distracted figuring out how I was going to break up with her. I looked across the table. There she was, eating her sandwich, telling me about what was important to her. She was sitting there, oblivious to the fact that I was about to dump her. _Seems cruel of me. Maybe I could wai- No! __Just do it!_

"Hello? Ken? Are you listening? I asked you a question."

"What? Oh...uh... yeah. Sorry." _What was the question? _

"I asked what color tie you're wearing on Friday? You know, for the prom?" Susan asked, looking at me with concern.

"I...don't know." I wasn't sure how to answer it. _I won't be wearing any color tie, because I'm not going. Why? Because we're not going to date anymore. Why can't I just say it out loud and get it over with?_

"My dress is pink if that helps. It's less than a week away. Don't you think it's time?"

"I know. Uh...you done?" I asked gesturing to her plate. She nodded. I felt suffocated in the diner. It wasn't busy, but it felt too claustrophobic to do it here. _Here or elsewhere, it's still going to be unpleasant. Get over it __already!_

We walked outside and down the street to a small park. She grabbed my hand as we walked. _Why does she have to do that? _I wanted to push her hand away and tell her the real reason I'd wanted to see her tonight. But I still hadn't worked up the courage. So, I wrapped my fingers around hers and faked another grin. She led me to a bench.

"Let's sit for a while," she suggested. I tried not to sit too close.

"Susan," I began. "I...uh.." I couldn't finish. I looked over at her, sitting as close to me as she could get, wearing that purple sweater she looked amazing in. _How can I do this to her? _I thought miserably. She leaned in for a kiss. I accepted it, knowing I shouldn't have. _Why does she have to look so good tonight? Why did she have to kiss me? __She's so pretty. _I really wanted to kiss her again. I cursed my hormones. _What's your problem? __Sure, y__ou'll miss all the hand holding, the kissing, the having someone. But you know it's not her you'll miss._It had to be now.

"I love you," she whispered. I internally cringed.

_Why did she have to say that? _I stared at my shoes, trying to decide what to do. I could say it back, but that would be a lie. I liked her. I didn't love her. I knew that. _Then why is this hard? Just get it out there!_

"Susan, listen. I t-think you're wonderful. But, I don't t-think this is going to w-work," I stuttered. I felt her recoil. _There. __Done. __Now man up and deal with it!_

"What?"

"You and me. We're both leaving in a few months and I don't think it's fair to kid ourselves," I explained, making an effort to keep my voice in check.

"We can deal with that when time comes! Ken, I'm sorry if I said I love you too soon. I understand if you're not ready. I know you wanted to take things slow-"

"Susan, no. It's not that," I interrupted. "I was planning to have this conversation long before you said that." _That came out wrong._

"Really? You planned this? All through dinner, the walk, that kiss? You were playing me?" she sounded confused, with a hint of anger seeping through.

"No! I didn't mean to anyway! I just didn't want to hurt you!" I suddenly felt defensive. _I'm not being unreasonable, am I?_

"Fine job you did of that! What's your problem?" I had asked myself that question several times tonight. She was full on upset now. So was I. This was not going according to plan. All of my intentions and per-rehearsed lines were now carelessly abandoned.

"Look, to be honest, I don't know what my future is, but I know you're not in it!" I blurted out.

"Why did you even bother to ask me out again?" She was clearly hurt, angry tears streaming down her face. I ignored it. I was too emotional.

"Would you have preferred I dump you over the phone?" I almost yelled. I immediately regretted it.

"You're an insensitive, idiotic fool, Ken Hutchinson!" She shot back. I felt as if I'd been slapped across the face.

"I'm...s-sorry. I didn't mea-"

"I doubt that!" Susan spat, storming off into the growing darkness.

I sat back down onto the bench and put my head in my hands. _Oh, what have you done now, Kenny?_

**Tuesday, April 17th, 1962**

I kept my head down as I walked out of school. I didn't want to accidentally see Susan. I felt terrible about how things had turned out last night. I really hadn't meant to hurt her. I had let my emotions get the best of me. Taken my frustrations about everything else out on her. It wasn't fair of me, but I couldn't take it back now.

"Hutch! Wait up!" Jack called as he ran to catch up to me.

"Hey, Jack." I unlocked my car.

"I heard you broke up with Susan."

"So?"

"Why? Are you crazy?"

"Jack, I really don't wanna talk about it. Especially here." I got in the car. Jack went around to the passenger side and got in.

"Okay, then let's go somewhere else," he suggested.

"Fine. But why do you care?"

"Because there's something clearly wrong with you! You don't just dump a perfectly nice girl for no good reason!"

"I had a good reason!"

"Why?"

"It just wasn't going to work, okay! She's fine, I just don't need a relationship right now. Can't you understand that?"

"Hutch, I will never understand why you're so finicky sometimes. You're smart about a lot of things, but women ain't one of them. If you did have to dump her, you could have at least waited until after Friday! Now she's the only girl in the senior class without a date to the prom!" Jack lectured me.

"There's plenty of guys that would love to go with her. One of them will ask her."

"Does that make humiliating her right?"

"What do you want me to do, Jack?" I asked him, my tone sharper than necessary. _He has a point._

"Sorry!" Jack threw his hands in the air. "Excuse me for trying to do you a favor by telling you when you're being an-"

"Stop it! I broke up with her. It's done. It doesn't matter and neither does the prom. Susan will get over it. I appreciate your concern, but I don't really think it's a huge deal."

"All right. But who are you gonna take to Prom instead?"

"Nobody! I'm staying home."

"Oh, come on! Don't weasel out of it this time! It's literally the last chance you'll have!"

"It's my right to throw that chance away. Besides, I have to work on my speech for graduation."

"You still haven't started?"

"No. Now will you get out of my car so I can go home?"

"Sure. You still wanna go see that movie later?" he asked. It was his way of asking if I was mad at him. I wasn't. Jack was just trying to be my friend, and I couldn't blame him for that.

"Absolutely. Meet you there around six?"

**Thursday, April 19th, 1962**

I stared at the blank page in front of me. I had been sitting here for an hour and nothing yet had come to mind for my speech. I looked around my room, searching for inspiration. My eyes fell on my guitar. _Maybe I could just write a song instead of a speech,_ I thought jokingly. I got up from my desk and grabbed the instrument. My grandfather and I had found it at a yard sale a few years ago. It was one of the last things he had bought me before he passed away. Music was one of the few things in life that hadn't changed since then. At least it still made sense. I glanced out the window. It was a beautiful day, and it seemed a shame to stay indoors.

I took the guitar outside to the back yard, along with a notebook I kept of my attempts at songwriting. I took a deep breath of fresh air and sat down on the wooden swing hanging from the big tree in the corner of the yard. Dad had hung it up long before I was born, in hopes that his future children would play on it. Kirsten and I had spent hours on it and I still loved it, even now. I swung slightly as I played a few chords. I could hear the birds chirping in the trees, adding another melody to mine. I began to sing too. I sang for the squirrel running across the lawn and for the birds above me. I sang for myself. I would never sing in public, but I felt safe here. I was in my own little world. I began to play something I had written just after my grandfather died. It was my favorite of all the ones I'd ever written. I lost myself in the chords, the lyrics, and the feeling it gave me.

I was about to start verse two, when I heard an odd sound from behind the hedge that separated our corner of the yard from the Blake's. I stopped singing. _Is somebody else out here? _I wondered, embarrassed that they might have heard me. I got up and leaned my guitar against the tree. I listened closely to see if I could pick up on it again. _There it is! Sounds like...crying?_ I walked around the hedge, into the Blake's yard. There was Nancy, sitting on the ground, her knees tucked into her chest. She was crying. _Poor Nancy._ I knelt down beside her. If she noticed my presence, she didn't acknowledge it.

"You all right?" I asked quietly. _Stupid question, dummy. _Nancy's shoulders shook. I shifted to sit down next to her.

"No." Her voice was tiny. I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into my side. My heart hurt for her. She sounded so sad. I had seen Nancy cry before, but usually it was because of a skinned knee, a lost toy, or something similarly inconsequential. The only other time I had seen Nancy cry was when her father had died. This wasn't as anguished as that, but I still hated to see her in pain.

"What happened, honey?" I asked once she seemed to calm down a bit. I felt her shiver.

"It's dumb."

"No, it's not. And even if it is, that's okay. I get upset about all sorts of dumb stuff." I squeezed her shoulder.

"A boy. Can you believe that, Ken? I'm crying over a stupid boy!" Nancy tried to sound tough, but her tone betrayed her. This was bothering her more than she wanted to let on.

"Tell me about it?"

"Jimmy. He was supposed to take me to Prom, but-" her voice broke.

"But now he's not," I finished for her. She nodded. "Why?" I hoped I wasn't pushing her too much.

"He decided he'd rather go with Janie."

"Janie, as in your best friend since kindergarten, Janie?"

"Yeah. And what's worse, she knew I liked him! She's known for years, and she still decided to accept his invitation. She knew he and I were supposed to go together! She didn't care!"

"I'm sorry, Nancy. That's awful." I didn't know what else to say. This was something I couldn't fix for her.

"I can't believe they would betray me like that! I'm so disappointed. I might as well return my dresses." Nancy sighed heavily, trying to stop more tears from falling.

"You'll have other chances to go to Prom. And Jimmy? You can do better than him. That boy failed the sit up test in seventh grade! And Janie's gonna regret treating you like that," I said, trying to make her feel better. I could detect a grin forming at the corners of her mouth. It quickly disappeared.

"I know that, it's just...I really wanted to go this time. I had my heart set on it, you know?" Nancy looked into my eyes, hers communicating the sadness her words couldn't. I pulled her in for a hug.

"I understand. I'm so sorry," I whispered. She hugged me back. The last time we had hugged was after her dad's funeral. I could feel her distress slowly melting away. When the hug ended, she didn't look like she was in danger of crying anymore.

"Thank you, Ken." She smiled at me. I gave her one in return.

"Hey, what are friends for?"

"What were you playing earlier? Before you came over here."

"Oh, that? Just a little s-something I wrote." I flashed her a goofy smile. _So, she did hear me! _I could feel my cheeks flush.

"It sounded nice. I liked the words. They were just the right amount of sad."

"I didn't think anyone was listening..."

"Well, they would listen! You're getting pretty good with that guitar of yours. Not to mention you have a great voice. You should consider letting someone besides yourself hear it."

"Maybe I'll think about it." I stood up and helped Nancy to her feet. She started for her backdoor.

"Promise?" she asked playfully, turning around to look me in the eye. She knew all about my tendency to be non-committal.

"Sea Scout's honor!" I gave her a salute. She laughed. It felt good to see her happy again.

That night at supper, Dad was determined to interrogate me.

"Have you heard back from the schools you applied to, Ken?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Well?"

"What?" I knew exactly what.

"Have you picked one?"

"No," I answered, stabbing a piece of meatloaf. I hated meatloaf.

"Why not?"

"It's a hard choice." _I don't know! Leave me alone __about it!_

"You need to select one and get properly enrolled. You'll also need to make arrangements for your living situation."

"Dad, it's not until fall. I don't think I have to worry about my living arrangements quite yet." I looked over at Kirsten, trying to send her a telepathic signal to save me by interrupting. She was too preoccupied with her green beans.

"You can't keep putting this off, son. You're going to wait too long on something too important one day. You'll miss your opportunity."

"Whatever," I mumbled. _I hate where this conversation is going almost as much as I hate meatloaf._I glanced over at Mom. _Please, Mom. __A__sk me if I took out the trash or something!_

"What was that?" Dad asked, giving me a chance to escape. I stupidly didn't take it. I remembered the conversation that I had overheard. I knew what he and Mom thought about me.

"I said, whatever." One look at Dad's face told me that was the wrong move. I did not want to have this conversation again. We'd been going around in circles for months, him asking if I had done things and me always saying "not yet". I could usually end it before things got unpleasant, but I had a feeling my remark had sealed my fate. My temper was starting to rise.

"Don't whatever me, young man! You need to take some responsibility! You've had all year to work on this and you've made almost no progress! Despite constant advisement and reminders from your teachers and family you still continue to ignore it!" I could feel my anger boiling now.

"Maybe that's the problem! Maybe I don't need constant advisement! I'm sick of everyone telling me how to run my own life! I'm not a baby anymore!" I stood up, almost knocking over my chair.

"Kenneth! Sit down!" Dad commanded. I obeyed. He almost never used my full name, unless he meant business. Mom shot me her best warning look, temporarily killing my desire to say something snotty. Kirsten pretended to be even more interested in her green beans.

"Yes, sir," I managed, staring down at the wretched meatloaf. _This day was going decently well before supper,_ I lamented.

"Angry outbursts will not be tolerated in this house."

"Sorry," I mumbled, ashamed that I'd lost my temper.

"You know better. Now, finish your supper and go to your room for the evening," Dad instructed.

"Sure, send me to my room. Like I'm five or something," I grumbled. Mom glared at me.

"Kenneth, that's quite enough! Do as your father says!" she ordered me.

The Kenneth count was up to two. I'd really done it now. _Why not go for three? _

"Fine, I'll go to my room! At least then I won't have to listen to anymore of his lectures." I shoved a bite of the deplorable meatloaf into my mouth.

"Kenneth! Upstairs! Now!" Dad commanded sternly. I could tell he was furious with me, but he refused to let it out. That wasn't Dad's style. I pushed in my chair slowly and retreated to my room.

It was hours later when I heard a knock on my door. I had been sitting in bed reading and had cooled off considerably since supper.

"Ken?" I heard Mom's voice through the door.

"Come in." I set my book down. She sat on the side of my bed.

"I want to talk to you."

"About earlier?" I asked, already knowing full well. She nodded. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have acted like that." I hoped she would accept my apology and leave. No such luck. That wasn't her style.

"Thank you." She smiled slightly. "Your father only wants what's best for you. He's a driven man. He doesn't understand why you tend to hesitate sometimes."

"We used to get along, me and Dad. Why did he change?"

"He hasn't. You've just grown old enough to have your own opinions," she explained.

_She's right, _Ithought_._I'd never second guessed him before.I had taken for granted that my dad knew everything._ Now that I'm old enough to disagree, it gets complicated._

"I guess."

"Ken, honey. He wants what's best for you. He wants to see you grow into a good, successful young man." I knew it was true. It wasn't really Dad I was mad at.

"I just hate having to make all these big decisions," I admitted.

"Your father and I love you very much. You know that, right?" She laid a hand on my blanketed knee.

"Yeah," I answered, unable to look her in the eye.

"No matter what, you'll always be my baby. My little one." She smiled and squeezed my knee. I had to stop myself from getting emotional.

"Thanks, Mama. I love you too." I hadn't called her _Mama_ in years, but I felt like a child again. She smiled and I noticed tears in her eyes. I had to force my own not to fall. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back, relishing the feeling. I felt her press a kiss to my temple just before she let me go.

Eventually, she left my room. I felt better. I hadn't thought about how she must feel about this. I was her youngest, her baby son. Now I was probably going to move away from her. _That's gotta hurt.__Oh, __Mama.__ I'll miss her…_

**Friday, April 20th, 1962**

Today was Prom. Not that it mattered, since I wasn't going. Jack had been talking my ear off most of the way to school about how awesome it would be.

"Hutch, you have to come tonight!"

"I don't have a date, Jack."

"So, go stag!"

"I'm not a deer."

"You know what I mean! Don't be like that, Hutchinson."

"I'm beginning to regret giving you a ride this morning," I mumbled.

"I told you, my car's getting detailed so I can pick up Heather in style!"

"I think you just told me that so you could try to force me to leave my house this evening."

"Maybe. I am getting my car detailed though, no lie!"

"Will you be quiet if I promise to think about it?"

"Yes!"

"Fine, I'll think about it." I had no intention of thinking about it. _I'm staying home tonight and making popcorn. Then, I'll waste the evening __in front of the television._

After school, I dropped Jack off to pick up his car and headed home. My teachers hadn't assigned homework this weekend, figuring no one would do it if they did. I was grateful for the break, even if I didn't need the evening off. I went to the backyard and started to swing. I stayed out there for over an hour, just swinging and thinking.

When I finally stopped, I pulled out my watch. 4:55. _Prom starts in about an hour. __Not that I care. _I went inside in search of some water. Kirsten was in the kitchen, fixing herself a plate of mashed potatoes and nothing else.

"Study fuel," she explained.

"Whatever you say. Wanna eat junk and watch TV later?"

"That's how you plan to spend prom night? With your sister, eating junk food in front of the TV?"

"Yep. Is my sister interested?" I asked.

"Sure, why not? But only if we make pizza first."

"Deal."

I spent the next half hour playing guitar in my room while Kirsten studied. My gaze fell on the prom tickets I'd purchased weeks ago. They had been lying on my dresser ever since. _What a waste of money. Too bad they won't get used._ I picked up my notebook of songs and flipped to a random page. It was the song I had played in the back yard the other day, the one Nancy and heard. I stared at the page for a long minute. I glanced at the clock, put my guitar away and went downstairs. I went outside and jogged across the front yard to the Blake's. I knocked on the door and waited, hoping I wasn't making a mistake. Mrs. Blake opened the door.

"Ken! What a nice surprise! Would you like to come in and join us for dinner?" she offered.

"No thank you. Can I talk to Nancy really quick though?"

"Of course!" she answered as Nancy appeared behind her.

"Hi Ken! What's up?" Nancy asked. Mrs. Blake headed back to the kitchen.

"Uh...did you return your dresses yet?"

"No, why?" she answered, clearly confused.

"Do you still want to go to Prom?"

"Well, yes, but I thought I explained-"

"Do you wanna...um...do you want to...uh...go? Like, with me? Together?" I dug the toe of my sneaker into her front step, unable to make eye contact. _Could you have asked her anymore awkwardly?_

"You mean it?" I could hear the smile in her voice. I looked up so I could see it too. I nodded. She smiled bigger. "I'd love to! But it starts at six, we'll be late."

"We'll be even later if you don't go get ready," I teased, then turned to go.

"Give me twenty minutes. Which dress?" she called after me. I shrugged.

"Surprise me!"

I ran back home and bounded up the stairs to Kirsten's room. I was going to need her help if I was going to do this.

"Kirsten!" I yelled, out of breath.

"Whoa there, what's going on?" she questioned, turning around in her desk chair.

"I need a rain check on tonight."

"Because?"

"I'm going to Prom with Nancy and I need your help."

"When did you decide this? Are you two-"

"Like ten minutes ago? And yes. I mean no. Uh...I'm not sure."

"Sounds well thought out." Kirsten smirked.

"It wasn't. I just got the idea and ran with it. Anyway, I have to leave in like five minutes and I...uh, need your input." She looked skeptical. "You know, as a woman." _Wow, that sounded mildly pathetic. _

"Okay then...What's the issue, Kenny?"

"What do I do? I've never been to one of these things."

"Dance? Have a good time? Don't do anything stupid? You need to be more specific."

"What do I do to get ready?"

"First, change. What color is her dress?" she asked as she practically dragged me by the arm to my room.

"Light blue. Or purple. Maybe green?" _Why can't I remember? It was __barely a week ago!_

"Wear your light blue shirt. Matches your eyes. And a black tie. That should go with any of those well enough." I dug around in my closet for my tie collection. I located three I didn't recall ever seeing before. I found one hand me down from Dad and the two I actually wore sometimes.

"None of these are black," I informed her.

"No kidding, Holmes. Wear the brown one you wear to everything then." I grabbed my suit, a brown belt and brown shoes and threw everything on my bed.

"Why is every accessory you own brown?" Kirsten mumbled. "Hurry up and change. I'm going to get my keys."

"I can drive myself."

"Sure, but you can't take Nancy in your car. You want to get there, don't you? You're already going to be a good half hour late." Kirsten had a point.

I changed as fast as I could and ran downstairs. Kirsten was waiting, keys in hand. She handed them to me.

"Scratch it and you're dead, half-pint," she said. _I hope she's joking._She examined me from head to toe, then reached up to push my hair off of my forehead. "There. Now you look halfway presentable. Can't have people thinking us Hutchinson's are slobs!"

"Thanks, Kirsten. I owe you one."

"I've been bailing you out of this kind of thing for eighteen years. It's no problem. Now go!" She shoved me towards the door.

I found myself on the Blake's doorstep for the second time that evening. Nancy opened the door, looking a lot different than she had twenty minutes ago. A lot different from any time I'd ever seen her for that matter.

"I went with the blue," she told me. I nodded in approval.

"Fun but not too much fun," I commented.

"Huh? Oh!" she giggled, getting my joke. "I actually just thought it would match your eyes."

"Funny, Kirsten said I should wear this shirt for the same reason. It's like you chicks have telepathy or something."

"My mom wants a picture before we go, by the way." Mrs. Blake joined us then, as if on cue.

"You kids are so adorable! And so grown up!" she said, motioning for us to get closer. I put my arm around Nancy's waist and smiled. I hated being fussed over, but I was glad Mrs. Blake was happy.

After a bit more fussing and a couple more pictures, we were finally on our way. I still wasn't entirely sure what I was doing or why. _I hate dancing. Why am I going to a dance? __Am I a glutton for punishment?_

"Ken, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." I glanced over at her in the passenger seat. _Oh, yeah. That's why I'm doing this._

"Why'd you ask me?"

"Because I knew you wanted to go."

"No, I mean, what is this?" she asked. "How should I introduce you?"

"How do you want to introduce me?" I asked, afraid to give her a straight answer. I wanted to make this a good night for her. We could work out the details later.

"As my...friend. Is that all right?" she sounded nervous, like she was afraid I wouldn't like her answer. We weren't kids anymore. I knew what she was asking. She was my friend. I couldn't deny that the thought of something more hadn't crossed my mind once or twice, but we had practically grown up together. She was like a sister to me.

"That's fine with me, friend." I smiled, hoping to reassure her that it really was fine.

When we arrived at the school, I opened her door for her and helped her out. The parking lot was full of cars, but empty of people. I was glad we were late. I pulled out my watch. Forty-five minutes late to be exact. That gave us around two hours.

"I can't believe we're doing this!" Nancy smiled as we walked into the gym.

"Me either. I was all set to stay home tonight."

"I'm glad you didn't." Nancy found my hand and gave it a squeeze. I smiled and led her over to a table. When I returned from getting her some punch, Jack was sitting beside her.

"Ken! You made it!" He stood up and slapped me on the back. I spilled about half the punch on my shoes.

"Jack! Watch it, will you?" I set the cups on the table and gave Nancy an apologetic look. She was trying to stop herself from laughing.

"Go clean your shoes, I'll wait here," she told me.

Once I had wiped down my shoes sufficiently, I exited the bathroom and came face to face with Susan. _Really?_ I thought. _Of all the times I had to walk out, why now? _We stared at each other for a long second before she spoke.

"Ken. Didn't think you were coming." Her voice was cold.

"Susan, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it like that. I..." I didn't know what to say. I felt guilty.

"Is this some sort of attempt to get me back? It's not going to happen."

"No, but I was a jerk to-"

"Yeah. You were," she cut me off. She stared at me, the hurt obvious on her face. She wouldn't accept my apology. I tried to open my mouth to say something, but nothing would come out. I was left standing there alone, feeling like an idiot, knowing she would never forgive me.

I went back to the gym to find Nancy. I tried to forget about Susan for now. I was here with Nancy. I needed to focus on her. She and Heather were talking about earrings or something while Jack was eating pretzels like there was no tomorrow. I sat down next to Nancy and grabbed a pretzel from Jack's plate. Jack shoved his plate over to me, grabbed Heather's hand and pulled her onto the dance floor.

"What did I miss?" I asked.

"Jack and Heather are Prom king and queen. Also, George McBride puked under the bleachers and Mrs. Jackson had to clean it up."

"All that? I was only gone for like five minutes." Nancy laughed and grabbed a pretzel for herself. I watched her observe the scene. She looked longingly at the couples on the dance floor. Just then, Jack came over to us.

"Hey Hutch, mind if I dance with your date?" he asked.

"Ask the lady yourself. Where'd Heather go?"

"There's a punch emergency or something. Care to dance?" He extended a hand to Nancy. She took it and spent the next three songs dancing with Jack. I watched them from my seat, fidgeting with my tie.

_Stop being the worst date ever, _I told myself. _Jack's right, you are a stick in the mud! _Nancy and Jack returned to the table, interrupting my mental pep talk.

"Boy, Nancy can dance!" Jack said. Nancy smiled at the compliment. The three of us sat there for a few minutes until Jack left to go find some cheerleader he hadn't danced with yet. I kept eating pretzels even though I was full. Nancy sat there awkwardly, waiting for me to say something.

"Hey Nancy?" I asked.

"Yes?"

"Do you wanna dance?" _It won't kill you, Kenny. Probably. __Just don't step on her._

"You hate dancing."

"You don't. Also, I don't want the freshmen year square dance fiasco to be my only school dance memory, so how about it?" I asked, forcing myself to meet her gaze. She nodded and grabbed both my hands.

Before I knew it, I was on the dance floor attempting to remember the steps to literally any dance man ever created. The only one that came to mind was the two step. Kirsten and I had tried to learn it from a book two summers ago. We had been awful, but managed to get the basic concept. I put one of my hands on Nancy's shoulder and took her other hand in mine. She giggled and moved the one on her shoulder to her side. A slow song started, and I tried to lead. I stepped on her in the first three seconds. _Great going Hutchinson!_

"Ouch!"

"Sorry!"

"You're fine! But maybe I should lead?" she offered.

"Please," I begged. _We all know I can't. _

Eventually, after a couple of songs, I figured out how to avoid stepping on her without constantly looking down. Then, I was able to really look at Nancy. My neighbor, friend, and now prom date. She looked beautiful. Her hair fell around her face just right, framing it perfectly. She looked so grown up. _Where did the time go? I remember digging for worms in the backyard with her __like it was yesterday._

"You are the most _de_ _moda_, _hermosa_ _reina _here," I whispered, leaning close to her ear.

"Thank you, good sir." She was beaming.

"_De verdad eres el mejor danzante. Soy lo peor!__ Perdona mi fracaso."_ I whispered.

"That sounds beautiful. What's it mean?" she asked.

"You really are the best dancer. I'm the worst! Pardon my failure," I translated, smirking. Nancy slugged me in the arm.

"I thought Spanish was the language of love! Now you're hitting me? Wow, Nancy!" She laughed and pulled me closer as another slow song started. I only stepped on her once for the rest of the dance. _This isn't a bad as I thought it would be. __No, sir!_

When we got home, I walked Nancy to her door. It was late, especially since we had made a pit stop for ice cream. With the exception of my encounter with Susan, it had been a fun evening. We walked up the steps and stood on her porch.

"I hope the ice cream comes out of your tie!" she said.

"If not, maybe I'll have to expand my tie horizons. Maybe purple and orange stripes?"

"Ew, gross!"

"Not as gross as George McBride's barf."

"Don't remind me, Ken!"

"I could describe it to you in Spanish!"

"Please don't!" We both laughed, followed by a minute of silence.

"I had a great time tonight, Nancy."

"You mean to tell me that Ken Hutchinson, the hater of dancing, superficial events, and high school hierarchy actually enjoyed himself at Prom?"

"I hate that I liked it. I did have a pretty good friend to go with though." Nancy smiled bigger than she had all evening. Her eyes sparkled with what I had to guess were tears of joy.

"Ken, thank you. For everything." She stood on her tip toes and kissed me softly on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Nancy," I whispered. _Tonight'__s__ going to be a good memory, _I thought as watched her disappear through her front door.


	5. Chapter 5: Start Of The End

**Chapter 5: Start Of The End**

**Friday, May 4th, 1962**

The final days of high school had arrived. It had been two weeks since prom and it was four weeks until graduation. I had a million things I had to do by then and none of them anywhere close to completion. I was stressing. Jack remained unaffected, as always. His biggest concern at the moment was flipping through his advance copy of the yearbook as he sat on my front step.

"Would you look at that, Hutch? Yours truly, prom king!" He pointed to his picture proudly. I looked up from the plant I was re-potting.

"Congratulations, Your Highness. As king, what is your stance on foreign policy? How do you feel about welfare?" I teased as I gently packed the soil around the roots of the fern. Jack frowned.

"I think we'll tax all the sassy gardeners to death!"

"How would that help?"

"I don't know, get rid of the opposition? Prevent a coup?"

"You don't know? I guess that's what we get for choosing our leader by way of a popularity contest."

"You're not half as funny as you think you are, Hutch."

"I'm a sassy gardener, not a jester, remember? Now if Your Highness doesn't mind, could you pass me the watering can?"

"Get it yourself, peasant! King Jack Mitchell the First is occupied!" Jack stuck his nose in the air and went back to the yearbook. I threw some dirt at him. "Hey! Watch the book!" he protested while I laughed. He set the book aside and picked up the watering can with a mischievous grin.

"Jack, put that down!" I pointed at him, a warning look on my face. Jack debated for a second, pulled the watering can back and slung the water in my direction. I tried to dodge, but my legs got soaked from the knees down. _Why is that so cold?! _I let out a yelp. Jack was laughing uncontrollably while I stripped off my socks and shoes and rolled up the legs of my jeans. I threw my now soaked socks at his chest. He threw them further into the yard, composed himself and picked up the yearbook again. I went back to my fern.

"Hutch!" Jack suddenly exclaimed. I looked up from my task.

"What?"

"You got a title!"

"Yeah, valedictorian. I already knew that."

"No, not that! Look, Ken Hutchinson, The Boy Most Likely to Succeed!" He pointed to my picture with the words under it. I shrugged.

"I should have got a haircut before that picture. It's too long on the sides," I commented. Jack groaned.

"You've missed the point once again, Hutch."

"I didn't. I just don't think it's that important. I don't understand why anyone would vote for me anyway." _Most likely to succeed? Without a life direction or a plan? Yeah right..._

"I voted for you."

"Why?"

"Same reason anyone else did. You work harder than anyone else, you're not a complete jerk, and you don't get caught up in drama."

"And that makes me likely to succeed?"

"The people have spoken!"

"They're the same people that made you king though. Not sure I trust them." I smirked. Jack tackled me and put me in a headlock. I struggled, but my two years on the varsity wrestling team were no match against Jack's four. "Jack! Stop!" I gasped for breath. "I surrender! Let me go! Jack!"

"Fine! Just remember this next time you decide to bad mouth your king!"

**Saturday, May 19th, 1962 **

"Hand me the flashlight, Ken," Dad ordered from under the bathroom cabinet. I searched the toolbox for the requested item and passed it to him.

"Can you tell what's wrong with it?" I asked. The sink in the upstairs bathroom had been leaking since Wednesday and Dad and I were trying to get to the bottom of why. Well, Dad was anyway. I was trying my best to assist, but I didn't really know a thing about it. Sinks weren't something I had taken the time to read up on.

"Looks like we need to make a trip to the hardware store." He slid out and handed me the flashlight. "Take a look for yourself, Son. See if you can tell me what's wrong." I obeyed and crawled under the sink. I pointed the light on everything, searching for anything that looked out of the ordinary. The problem was, I wasn't sure what was ordinary. Dad was better at this sort of thing.

"Uh...it's leaking?" I guessed somewhat sarcastically. _How should I know? _I heard Dad sigh.

"I hope you don't have dreams of becoming a plumber, Ken," he mumbled. I crawled out and switched off the flashlight.

"Don't worry, I don't."

"Good. But it's still not a bad idea for you to learn how to do this. You may have a house of your own someday and you'll need to be able to make basic repairs."

"I could always just call in a professional."

"And pay an astronomical fee for something you could have easily fixed yourself?"

"Or I could just call my engineer dad and ask him what to do."

"Or you could fix it on your own, save money, and not run up the phone bill," Dad suggested.

"Fair point. What's wrong with it?" I asked, resigned to dedicate the rest of my afternoon to this project. Dad motioned for me to crawl back under the sink. Once I was down there, he pointed out the offending part.

"This is the drain. That's what's leaking. It's rusted, so we'll have to replace the whole drain and these two washers." He handed me a pencil and a small notebook.

"Okay, what do we need to get to do that?" I got ready to write it down. I guessed Dad was probably going to make me locate all the items myself when we got to the store.

"Washers, a drain, plumbers' putty and some Channellock pliers." He took the list from me and added the measurements for everything.

"You don't have the pliers?"

"I do, but you don't. You need your own for your toolbox." Dad had given Kirsten and I toolboxes for our 16th birthdays. We had slowly been adding to them ever since, one project at a time.

Once we were in the car, Dad brought up the very thing I didn't want to talk about.

"Graduation is about two weeks away."

"I know, Dad."

"Started on that speech?"

"I tried. Haven't thought of anything yet." I stared out the window.

"Don't you think you're cutting it close there, Son?"

"Yes, but if I'm stuck, I'm stuck. Besides, I don't even wanna do it. I'll probably just write it the night before or something."

"Ken, it's an honor to be given the opportunity. You should take it more seriously."

"I can't force myself to care about something I know I'm going to hate."

"Not with that attitude you won't. You'll do well when you motivate yourself and get it done."

"You give me too much credit," I grumbled.

"What's the issue? It's not like you're unfamiliar with the topic."

"It just is, okay! I'm not like you. I can't just get up in front of a bunch of people without turning into a nervous wreck." I fiddled with my shoelace.

"You know most of the people that will be there."

"Doesn't matter. I'll still hate it."

"Ken, that makes no sense."

"You're right, it doesn't! But that's just the way I am. I can't help it!" _Logical or not, doesn't matter! __I'__ll__ still freak out._

"You can always help it. Quit making excuses for your poor attitude."

"I'm not! I just know how I am. You obviously don't," I responded. I could sense that my comment was not appreciated.

"I don't suppose you've chosen a college yet either?"

"Still thinking about it." I had been. A little. Barely.

"The fall will be here before you know it. I can't force you to apply yourself forever, Son."

"Well I never asked you to!" I sighed and turned to stare out the window again. I could feel him looking at me when we stopped at a light. "Sorry," I mumbled. _Are we there yet?_

"Ken."

"What?" _How far away is the hardware store?_

"You know why I'm hard on you sometimes?"

I shrugged. _Maybe you like making me feel like a failure? Maybe you like reminding me how much I don't measure up to everyone's expectations? __I can't even figure out what my own expectations are..._

"I want you to succeed. I hate to see you waste your potential. You're a very intelligent young man, but you've got to start taking some initiative."

"Then why does it feel like you think I'm some kid that needs you to hold my hand or kick my rear so I'll make a move? Why does it feel like you think I'm stupid? Why can't you just trust me to make good decisions in my own time?" I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible. I had to be mature about this. Otherwise, I would prove everything I didn't want to be true. Dad thought for a second before responding.

"I've watched you grow up, Ken. It's hard for me to believe you're almost a man. But here you are, eighteen and graduating. I won't have you under my roof for much longer and I want to make sure you're prepared to be on your own."

"I thought that's why we're fixing the sink."

"Yes, to some degree. It's the same goal with your speech and college decision. I want you to know how to handle those kind of things. I know waiting comes naturally to you, but there are some things in this world you just can't put off. There are others you shouldn't rush into. But you have to have the wisdom to learn the difference, Ken." I didn't say anything for a while, letting his words soak in.

"Sounds like something Grandpa would have said."

"Where do you think I heard it? He said something similar to me when I was your age. Only I had a tendency to rush into things. No patience at all."

"Really? You? But you're so...calculated." I found it hard to believe my father hadn't always been the way I'd known him. A planner who executed things on a reasonable timetable. Steady. Predictable.

"Took me a long time to work on it. In fact, I proposed to your mother on our third date."

"You're kidding! She told me you dated for two years before you asked her."

"She didn't take me seriously the first time. Probably dismissed it from memory. She told me if it was really love, it would keep. Made me want her even more, but I had to have patience to wait."

"Sounds like her."

"She was one of the best decisions I ever made."

"What were the others?" My dad wasn't one to open up often, so I wanted to take in whatever he would offer on the rare occasion that he did.

"You and your sister. After that, my career path, buying a house, things like that."

"Oh." I didn't know how to respond. _Maybe it doesn't matter if he doesn't get me, or agree with my methods of doing things. __I'm at the top of his list.__ Maybe that's enough…_

"Here we are. Got the list?" he asked as we finally pulled up to the hardware store. I knew our conversation was not going to be continued. I nodded and followed him inside.

**Tuesday, May 22nd, 1662**

I stopped at Eddy's Gym after school. I needed to think. It wasn't busy this time of day. _Good. _I quickly changed in the locker room and stretched. I always thought better when I was moving. Today, I was going to seriously think about college. Since the night I had opened my acceptance letters I hadn't given it much thought. It was long overdue.

I waved to Eddy and headed straight for the speed bag. I felt like hitting something. I wasn't ready to decide where I wanted to go, but time was running out. I threw punch after punch, building up speed. _I could stay in Duluth. That would be easiest. And cheapest. I could keep living at home for awhile. __But do I want to play it safe like that? _I moved over to the heavy bag. I wanted to hit something harder. I went at the bag with everything I had, taking out all my frustration. _Why can't I make __a __decision? __Why don't I know what I want? __I hate it! __I hate everything! I hate feelin-_

"Easy there, kid! You're gonna split your knuckles open if you keep hitting that thing like that," Eddy warned me, interrupting my thoughts. Eddy had owned the gym for as long as anyone could remember. He was an older man, but still in great shape. He was an ex-competitive boxer and weightlifter, giving him a lot of expertise.

"Oh, uh...sorry." I felt myself blush with embarrassment.

"I'd hate to be that bag the way you're going at it. Not scolding you for going hard, just wrap your hands first. I ain't fond of cleaning blood off the thing." He smirked as he looked me over. I probably looked like quite the character. A skinny blond kid in basketball shorts, a green t-shirt and dirty Chucks, attacking the bag like my life depended on it. My form was probably off too.

"I don't know how," I admitted. Eddy motioned for me to follow him. He walked over to the front desk and pulled a box out from underneath the counter. He tossed me a wrap and grabbed one himself.

"Today you're gonna learn. See, you start here." I studied his technique and tried to copy it on my own hand.

"Like this?"

"No, that's not quite it. Here. You can do it yourself next time." Eddy grabbed my hand and fixed my wrapping job. He talked me through the steps when he wrapped my other hand. I watched intently, trying to memorize everything.

"Thanks. I bet you can tell I'm not a boxer."

"You could have fooled me if you'd stuck to the speed bag. You're getting pretty decent on that."

"I would hope so, I've been practicing since...I don't remember."

"I do. You were fourteen. You were my youngest member ever."

"I had to practically beg you to let me join." I remembered the first time I had ever come in here. Mom had stopped at the dry cleaners next door and I had wondered into Eddy's and asked about a membership.

"I didn't take you seriously. Little did I know you'd be one of my most frequent customers."

"Neither did I. Especially after you banned me from the weight section until I was sixteen."

"Couldn't have you dropping one on your toe and getting your daddy to sue me," he joked. "Want me to check your form?"

"Please." I went back to the heavy bag and threw a couple punches. Eddy watched and then corrected my mistakes. He held the bag and motioned for me to give it a good hit. I liked Eddy. He always had a minute to show me things. He was the reason I wasn't completely lost in the gym.

"Not bad, kid! Might make a boxer out of you yet. Keep going, fast as you can."

"All right." Eddy watched for a bit longer then left to stop someone else from unevenly loading the barbell. I kept punching and got back to my original purpose for coming here in the first place. Thinking. I timed my punches with each point. _UMD. Pros: Close to home. Scholarship. No drastic change. Cons: No drastic change- __D__o I want a drastic change? _I stopped punching. _Well do I? _I thought about my life here, this city, this gym, this house. I liked Duluth. I really did. _I've never lived anywhere else. It might be interesting to __try it __out __though. I could always transfer back here if I hate it. __I have two, well, three scholarship__s if I count the wild __card._I thought about the other locations, weighing the pros and cons. They all seemed like good options. _How on earth am I gonna __choose__? __Maybe you just do. Just pick and don't overthink it. _

I switched to weights and continued my internal debate. I looked up at the wall where Eddy had all his articles, awards, and memorabilia. He'd been everywhere. East, west, north, south, overseas, you name it. I finished my workout and went back to the locker room. I made up my mind I would ask Eddy a few questions before I left. I walked up to the front desk where he was reading the paper.

"Hey, Eddy. You ever been to Wisconsin or Indiana?" I asked. Eddy nodded.

"Sure, kid. Cheese land and basketball central. They're good states," he replied.

I started to leave, then stopped. I turned back to the desk and shifted my bag on my shoulder. _Why not?__Just ask him. _I looked down at my Chucks, then back up at him.

"What about California?"

**Friday, May 25th, 1962**

Graduation was one week from today. Jack was beyond excited. He was headed to Yale in the fall to start on his medical degree. He had been looking forward to it ever since I had met him. He was going on about it now as we sat in an abandoned corner of the library. I was going through some tour books. I had been reading through them in hopes that something would jump out at me. Something that would help me make the decision.

"I wonder what kind of girls Yale will have?" Jack wondered aloud, leaning back in his chair.

"Probably the female kind," I guessed as I flipped though the food section of Wisconsin. _How many cheese shops does one state need?_

"Ha ha. Very funny. Are you really thinking about Wisconsin?" He reached over and took the book from me. He flipped through it disinterestedly.

"Why not? They have a Circus museum!" I protested somewhat jokingly.

"Well in that case, you'd fit right in! They could put ya' in the freak show."

"For what?"

"For being a young man that seems to have a lack of interest in life's finer things."

"Finer things being girls at Yale?" I mumbled as I snatched the book back.

"Yes. Or girls anywhere for that matter. Still can't believe you blew it with Susan."

"We broke up. Big deal. End of story."

"Shame. She probably would have made you a man." He pretended to look off into the distance wistfully. I shook my head and rolled my eyes.

"Jack, you're an idiot."

"And you never have any fun! What about Nancy? Ever thought about taking things farther with her?"

"We're just friends, Jack." I didn't like where this was going.

"She seems into you. She'd probably jump at the chance to get with you, being the valedictorian and all."

"Jack, enough! We've known each other forever. It's not like that." I hoped that would be the end of it. I knew that with Jack, however, there was no stopping him.

"Why wouldn't she want to snuggle up with her handsome, older, hardworking boy next door? She trusts you, why not go for it? The way she was looking at you at Prom I'd bet she'd say yes in two seconds flat."

"Don't talk about her like that, Jack! I told you to drop it! I would never take advantage of someone like that! You're disgusting sometimes, you know that?"

He held up his hands in surrender. "Whoa! I was just joking! No need to jump down my throat!"

"I didn't think it was very funny. Don't think Nancy would either."

"Fine. Sorry, Hutch. Didn't mean anything by it. I wasn't thinking."

"Well maybe you should before you open your mouth next time," I advised him.

"Okay, I'm sorry. It was in poor taste."

I knew he hadn't meant it, but it still got under my skin. _But why? Do I actually like her like that? Is that why it bothers me so much? _Truth was, I didn't know. I did like her, but now I was unsure if my feelings were purely platonic. _But it would never work between us. Especially if I go away for college.__ No way… _I left for home, more confused than I ever had been in my life. One thing was clear though. I was going to pick a college. Even if I ended up choosing wrong, it wasn't the end of the world. _It will be an adventure no matter where I go. Or even if I stay. Change is inevitable. Might as well get used to it._

**Monday, May 28th, 1962**

I ate my soup and listened to my family discussing their days. Mom was telling us about how the phones were down at her office, Dad was complaining about some new temp, and Kirsten was talking about the new restaurant she went to for lunch. I wasn't contributing much. I had stayed up late the night before, attempting to make a choice about college. I had made a million lists, played a thousand different scenarios in my head, and stressed about it until I fell asleep. None of it helped much.

"So anyway, it was really good food. I think I'll go back," Kirsten said. "What about you, Kenny? Do anything interesting today? You're pretty quiet over there." I looked up from my soup. Everyone was looking at me.

"Um...not really." It had been a normal, ordinary, regular day.

"How was school?" Mom asked.

"All right. People are getting antsy for graduation," I replied.

"I bet. It's this Friday!" Kirsten reminded me.

"Decided on a college yet?" Dad asked. He asked every night these days. I don't think he ever expected to get an answer at this point. He just asked out of habit. I cringed at the question every time he did so.

"Why don't you let him get through this week first?" Mom suggested.

_Bless her. _I thought. I could always count on Mom to pick up on my body language.

"Yeah, Dad. The last week of high school is always crazy," Kirsten added.

I wanted to let my mother and sister defend me, put the decision off another week, not worry about it yet. But I remembered what Dad had said to me. _You've __got__ to start taking some initiative. _He was right. I wasn't sure if what I was about to say was exactly what he had meant. I was scared it was one of those things I shouldn't rush into. But before I could stop them, the words came out.

"Actually, I have made a decision." I stared down at my soup. I had no idea what to follow up with. I hadn't made any decision.

"Well, Kenny? You gonna let us in on it?" Kirsten asked.

"Yeah." _Just pick. Don't overthink it. Adventure either way, right?_

"Son?" Dad questioned, waiting for my response. I took a deep breath and blurted out the first place that came to mind.

"California. I'm going to California." There was dead silence. _Oh, you've done it now, Kenny!_

"What?" Kirsten broke the silence.

"I didn't think you applied for any that far away," Mom said, obviously stunned. I was too afraid to look at Dad. I didn't want to know what he was thinking.

"I didn't at first, but I thought it might be fun. Just to see if I got in," I explained.

"California..." Kirsten shook her head and looked down at her plate. Dad finally spoke.

"Are you serious about this, Ken?" I forced my eyes to meet his. He seemed concerned and confused.

"Um...yeah. I...uh...I am." _I have no idea! Why did I say California? __Out of all of them, why the wild card?_

"Do you realize how far away that is, honey?" Mom asked, stunned by the bombshell I had just dropped on our family.

"You haven't even picked a major, Kenny! You sure you want to commit to going that far away when you're still undecided?" Kirsten asked.

She and Mom made good points, but it seemed I had already made my decision. Given, an impulsive and ill-thought-out decision, but a decision nonetheless. I intended to stick to it.

"The cost of living out there is excessively high, son. You'd do better financially somewhere else," Dad added.

"Look. I've made up my mind and I'm sending the letter tomorrow," I stated, faking confidence I did not feel. Internally, I was screaming at myself for doing something so rash and stupid. This wasn't at all how I thought I'd decide. _What good are all those pros and cons lists now? So much for an educated and well-__researched __choice! Forget practicality! __Apparently, __I'm going to California! __What is wrong with me?! _My whole family stared at me, shocked. I couldn't take it. "I need some air," I mumbled as I left the room and grabbed my shoes before anyone could protest.

I went outside and walked around the block over and over again. _Wow, Hutchinson. __What is your problem? _I reflected on the events of the school year so far. I had surprised myself a few times, made plenty of mistakes, and worked my tail off. _But for what? The next phase? _I didn't know, but I had to keep going. At least until Friday._ Graduation day...__Oh no! The speech! _I still hadn't written a thing. I knew I wouldn't be able to do it. There was absolutely no way. I had managed to push the thought away for months, but now the time had almost come. It was only four days away. _Four short, agonizing days. _I was terrified.


	6. Chapter 6: Dread

**Sorry I took so long to update this! I promise I will try the get the next one up sooner. Anyway, here is Chapter 6!**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Dread**

**Tuesday, May 29th, 1962**

The letter was in my hands. The letter that would make the final decision for me. I stared at the address for the hundredth time, checking for accuracy. I had reread my acceptance letter and scholarship offer too. Part of me hoped there had been some sort of mistake. That I hadn't really been offered the opportunity. I stared at the faded United States map that hung on my bedroom wall. Duluth was marked with a blue thumbtack. I had marked Bay City, California with a red one. _That's where I'm going to college. That's where I'm going to live for at least the next year. __Bay City. It's so...far._

I had to keep reminding myself this was real. That I had blurted out at supper last night that I was going to California. That I had said I would mail the letter today. I wished I had kept my mouth shut. Then I would still have a choice. Not that I couldn't back out and not send the letter. I could, but then I wouldn't be a man of my word. I wanted to be the kind of person who meant what they said. _But what if what I said was stupid and impulsive?__ Can I make an exception? _I sighed and flopped back on my bed. _When did things get so complicated? __Why c__ouldn't I just make a normal and educated decision like everyone else? __Jack's know__n__ where he's going for over a year. Everyone else knew by Christmas at least. _A knock on my door frame interrupted my internal lament. I looked up to see Mom standing there.

"So, you are home! Got a minute?" she asked.

"Sure, I'm not doing anything." _Anything but questioning my sanity, that is._

"Weren't you and Jack doing something after school today?"

"That's tomorrow, Mom. He needs a new outfit for graduation."

"And that requires your help?"

"He thinks I need something fancier since I'm making a speech. I told him there was no point, but I guess he heard it was a social sin to repeat an outfit for graduation or something."

"Sounds like the social sins haven't changed since I was in high school. Excited?"

"For graduation? I guess. I'm ready for it to be over." I answered honestly. Mom walked over to the wall with the map. She pointed at the red thumbtack.

"Bay City? Is that where the college is?"

"Yeah. Didn't I tell you that?"

"No. You just said California." She was right. I hadn't given them any details. She continued examining the map, evaluating the distance between the two points. I got up and joined her.

"Pretty far, huh?" She nodded. I tried to read her expression. _What __is__ she thinking? _"Do you think I'm making a mistake, Mom?"

"I don't know, Ken. I really don't," she sighed. "I'm still trying to process it. I always thought Kirsten would be the one to go away to college and you would stay more local."

"Me too. But I think I wanna try it. At least for the first semester. I could always transfer if I hate it." I wasn't sure who I was trying to reassure.

"I suppose that's true. I think it might be a good experience for you either way. You have always wanted to see the Pacific Ocean." She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. I knew what she was doing. She was trying to remain optimistic even though this was difficult. I had sprung this on her out of nowhere. California would be the farthest I had ever been from home. From her. I also suspected she knew that I hadn't exactly thought this out.

"Yeah, it doesn't look like campus is too far from the beach. All that Sea Scout stuff might come in handy." _See, it's not all bad! __A__t least __I can__ see the coast while I make the potentially biggest mistake of my life._

"Does my favorite Sea Scout want to assist me at the store?"

"Now?"

"Yes. I was thinking of making those special salads with the grilled chicken you like for supper. I know how you prefer to select all the ingredients yourself."

"Yeah, but can we stop by the post office on the way home? I need to mail this letter."

Forty minutes later I was comparing tomatoes in the middle of the produce aisle. Mom and I always took the divide and conquer approach to grocery shopping when I went along. I was in charge of produce while she was in charge of pretty much everything else. Even though she always had more items on her list, she was somehow always done before me. She said it was a special ability she had gained with motherhood. _I wonder if that's really true?_ Then I realized I had been staring at the same two tomatoes for five minutes. _I think I have my answer. _

"The one on the left looks riper," Mom said, coming up behind me.

"You done?" I asked, eyeing her almost full cart. She nodded. I placed my basket of produce inside it and marked tomatoes off my list. All I had left was cucumbers.

"You about ready? I told your dad supper was at six."

"Still need cucumbers." I moved down the aisle and selected a few.

"I got you some California raisins. I thought that would be festive." She smiled and held up the box. I laughed.

"Really, Mom? Our meals are themed now?"

"It's not everyday your son announces he's planning to move halfway across the country! Why not

have some fun with it?"

"Not saying I hate it though! I like raisins." I grinned.

"Good, because they only had the big box in stock."

"You know I'll eat just about anything you set before me, Mom. I'm still growing, you know."

"So our food budget tells me," she mumbled.

We checked out and headed to the post office. Mom parked, unlocked the car, and handed me the letter. I waited for her to tell me to wait, to think about what this meant before I sent it. I wanted her to convince me to slow down and consider if I really wanted to do this. But she didn't. She didn't bring up any of the concerns everyone had expressed at supper last night. I took a deep breath and went inside. _I hope I don't regret this, _I thought as I pushed the letter into the slot. I practically ran back to the car.

"I did it," I announced as I slid into the passenger seat. I was relieved it was done. _College decision is made. Check. Done. _I knew I wasn't done thinking about it though. _I will probably regret this tomorrow._ _And in the fall._ _And maybe forever._ I took a deep breath and tried to calm down as we started towards home.

"You're awful quiet over there, Ken." Mom glanced over at me. "Are you-"

"I'm fine. Just glad I got it done." _Glad? Sure. As if I haven't been debating and getting worked up over this for months._

"Have you told anyone else about your plans yet?" I hadn't. Not even myself until last night. Telling anyone besides my immediate family hadn't even crossed my mind.

"No. You, Dad, and Kirsten are it."

"You going to mention it in your speech?"

"I don't have any idea what I'm mentioning. I still need to write it. And yes, I know it's Friday, I'm running out of time and all that." I hoped that would save me from yet another lecture on the dangers of procrastination.

"That's not why I asked. I just thought that if you're going to mention it, you should tell your closest friends first. That way they won't have to be shocked." She made a good point. Mom always considered people's feelings. It was one of her qualities I wanted to emulate.

"I'll tell Jack tomorrow after school. I think he'll take it well."

"He will. He seems to be in favor of anything that keeps you out of the house," she joked. The whole family was aware that Jack was partially responsible for me not becoming a complete hermit.

"Yeah, he sure does. He's got like three parties he thinks we should go to Friday night."

"Why am I not surprised? I do want you home at least one evening in the next few days though. We need to have your special graduation supper!"

"Isn't that what we're doing tonight? Special salad and all?"

"Oh no, Ken. I have bigger plans than special salad for your graduation supper!"

"Please don't tell me you invited half the neighborhood!" I groaned. I didn't need the extra stress of another major social gathering.

"No, I didn't. I thought we might invite the Mitchell's and the Blake's. Guest list is up to you though, whatever you want."

"The Blake's and the Mitchell's are fine." I wondered what Mom was planning. _Maybe she'll make one of those chocolate cakes, or some of those gingerbread scones she made around Christmas. Boy, those were deli-_

"What about Nancy? When are you going to tell her?"

"Um...I don't know." _Nancy! How am I going to tell her? _I couldn't believe I hadn't thought about it yet. Telling Jack would be easy, but telling Nancy? I had no idea how she would react. _Do I have to tell her in advance?_

"You are going to tell her, right? You two are pretty close." She glanced over at me again. Mom was right. I had to tell her. Nancy definitely qualified as one of my close friends. She deserved to hear it from me before it became common knowledge.

"I will. I'll do it tomorrow evening after I get back from wherever Jack's dragging me." _That way I can __think about how I'm going to break the news all day. __Gives me time to sweat it._

It seemed like I had been worrying a lot lately. Worrying, stressing, wishing I had some clue about what I was doing. But I didn't. It wasn't like I was just going to come to some magical epiphany that would reveal my life direction and purpose. I couldn't take an aptitude test that would reveal beyond a shadow of a doubt what I was made for. There was no user manual for this. No way to truly prepare. No matter what I did, I would be going in blind. I had to accept that. _What choice d__o__ I have? _

When we got home, I helped Mom unload the groceries and cook supper. I easily lost myself in the process. It was fun, working side by side with her. I wished I would get more opportunities.

"Cut them smaller, Ken," Mom ordered, looking over my shoulder at the cucumber I was slicing. I continued, careful to adjust the size.

I looked out the window at a pair of robins in the yard. One was chasing the other around in circles. _Bully, _I thought. The one being chased turned suddenly and became the pursuer. _You showed him, huh? __If only I __could solve my issues that simply…_ I felt my knife slip.

"Ouch!" I yelped. Pain shot through my finger. I drew it to my mouth out of habit. _Metallic cucumbers...interesting __flavor. _I tried to focus on the taste rather than the pain. _Ow!_

"You alright?! Let me see it." Mom grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away from my mouth. I felt my blood drip into the sink as she examined my finger. "What happened?" she asked as she ran my hand under the water.

"Uh...I cut myself?"

"I know that, Ken. What happened?" There was no point in telling her anything but the truth, stupid as it was.

"I was watching the birds and got distracted."

"I see," she commented as if it were the most normal explanation in the world. She grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and dug around for a band aid. I suspected I was the reason she kept it there within such easy reach. This was far from the first time I'd hurt myself in the kitchen somehow.

"Guess I should learn to only get distracted when I don't have a knife in my hand," I joked. _I guess I can __also __rule out anything culinary from my future career list._

"You got yourself pretty good, but you didn't nick an artery or anything. You'll live." She patted my hand and went back to work. I leaned against the counter and cradled my injured finger in my palm.

"What happened to motherly bedside manner? There there, Son? Sorry you had to learn the hard way that bird watching isn't appropriate at all times? You poor thing?"

"You keep telling me how you're grown up now. You don't want to be babied, do you?" She motioned for me to move aside so she could get to the trash can under the sink. I stepped aside.

"Well, no. I mean, maybe just occasionally. Like when I stab myself," I explained.

"Want me to kiss your band aid?" She asked as she finished slicing the cucumbers I had abandoned. I saw where my sister and I had inherited our cold sarcasm from.

"No, but I'd like something. Just so I know you actually care that I didn't bleed to death," I grumbled as I sneaked a bit of chicken. Mom noticed and glared at me.

"I'm sorry you got hurt. How about a hug? Would that convince you I love you?" I accepted and hugged her. I began getting out plates and silverware.

"That helps. I was kind of worried you only fed and clothed me for eighteen years because the government made you. Tax breaks and all." I grinned, anticipating her reaction. She shook her head and chuckled.

"Where do you get all these strange ideas, Ken?"

"I read too much. Kirsten also said Dad dropped me as a baby," I mumbled as went to set the table.

"Kirsten said what?!" she called after me.

"Nothing! Though it would explain a lot..."

**Wednesday, May 30th, 1962**

_Please don't notice me, please don't notice me, please don't-_

"Kenneth? Is Kenneth Hutchinson here?" Principal Nicholson asked. All the seniors had been instructed to meet in the gym after last period to discuss graduation. I was hoping I could just sit in the back and not attract attention, but it seemed Principal Nicholson had other plans. He had just gone through the basic order of the ceremony and had apparently arrived at the point where my speech would be.

"Here." I raised my hand. _So much for not attracting attention._

"Excellent. Come down here, please." I felt everyone's eyes on me as I climbed down the bleachers. He motioned for me to stand beside him, facing my classmates. I obeyed. "As you all know by now, Ken is our valedictorian this year. He'll make his speech and that will bring us to when you will receive your diplomas." He paused and turned to me. "Do you have any words of wisdom to share with your fellow classmates for the last two days of your high school careers?"

"Now?" I asked stupidly. He nodded. I gulped. "Um..." _Words of wisdom? I don't have any words at all! _I looked at my classmates. They were waiting expectantly. I could feel it getting more awkward by the second._Is he trying to make me miserable? Think, Ken! _"Uh...Keep working hard?" _Is that really the best you can do?_

"Good advice! Thank you, Kenneth. Remember, we will be rehearsing tomorrow directly after school, so please be sure to come straight to the gym following your classes. Any questions?"

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, wishing he would tell me I could go sit back down. No one raised their hand. _What questions could anyone possibly have anyway? You spent the last fifteen minutes explaining pretty much everything that's going to happen. Why do we even need a rehearsal anyway? _The edge of the band aid on my finger was peeling up. I pushed it back down as I waited for our principal to realize that no one was paying enough attention to have questions.

"None? Very well then, I will see all of you tomorrow. You may be dismissed."

I started towards the door, more than ready to leave. _Now where is Jack? _I tried to spot him in the crowd.

"Kenneth?" I heard Principal Nicholson behind me. I turned around, hoping I hadn't really heard my name.

"Yes, sir?" _What does he want now?_

"How is your valediction coming along?"

"Good," I answered much too casually. _Wow. __L__ie to the principal's face, __why don't you?_

"I look forward to hearing it on Friday." He almost smiled.

"Thank you." _I look forward to hearing it too. __Except for an entirely different reason._

"Then everyone should be adequately prepared for the ceremony by tomorrow. Wonderful! Once again, congratulations, Kenneth! You should be very proud of yourself and your academic

accomplishments."

"Um, thank you. May I go now?" I had no desire to stay and chat. Especially about my academic accomplishments. _If I'm supposed to be so smart, then why can't I write __a__ stupid speech? __And why after years of knowing me, has he not figured out that no on__e ever__ calls me Kenneth?_

"Yes, of course. See you tomorrow."

I hurried out to the parking lot where Jack was waiting by his car. I could tell he was slightly annoyed I had kept him waiting.

"Hutch! What took so long? We got things to do!"

"Nicholson stopped me. He wanted a progress update on the speech and all," I explained as I threw my things into the car and got in. Jack slid behind the wheel.

"And what is the progress update?"

"There is none. Still haven't started," I answered, searching my bag for a snack. Jack's shopping trips always made me hungry, so I had come prepared.

"Seriously? You are aware that graduation is the day after tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, but yet here I am. Speechless!" I found an apple and took a bite.

"I don't get you. I've had my speech planned for years. Of course, I won't need it now anyway since my best friend is such a smartypants. But if you want to take the manuscript and change a few names then I won't object," he offered. I considered this as I chewed on my apple. I wouldn't have to actually think of anything if I took him up on it, but then the speech wouldn't really be mine. Not that I wanted a speech at all, but here I was, stuck with one anyway.

"Nah, I think I'll just improvise or something." _Or something i__ndeed! _"Besides, I still have a day and a half. I've written essays over lunch period before, I think I can manage." I tried to sound nonchalant about the whole thing. I didn't want Jack pressuring me. I had enough to deal with.

"That should be interesting," Jack commented. I chose not to respond and munched on my apple.

Two stores, two hours and twelve rejected outfits later, Jack was still in search of his graduation shirt. He'd already found pants, a pair of shoes, and a belt buckle. I flipped through a rack of plaid dress shirts while I waited for him to come out of the dressing room. I picked up a nice blue one and held it up against me. _Looks like it'll fit. Maybe I'll get it. _I glanced at the price tag. _Or maybe not. _I put it back on the rack and looked around for something else to occupy myself with. _How am I going to bring up this California thing to Jack? _I wondered as I picked up the world's ugliest sweater.

"What do you think, Hutch? Red or black?" Jack emerged from the dressing room holding two fancy dress shirts.

"Red. It's more you." I wasn't sure why my opinion mattered, but I gave it to him anyway. He nodded in agreement.

"You're right! Red it is. Are you actually considering getting that?" He pointed to the sweater in my hands with a disgusted look on his face. It was sewage green with flecks of pink and brown. It bore a striking resemblance to what George McBride had left under the bleachers at prom.

"Of course not. Can we go now that you've found a shirt?" I asked. I was tired of shopping.

"I'm done, but you still need something."

"Need is a strong word. I have clothes at home. And besides, this place is too expensive." I folded the sweater and placed it back on the shelf.

"Hutch, it's my treat. Just get something. Happy graduation!"

"You don't have to do that, Jack. I have mon-"

"Uh uh! Let me do this for you! No good buddy of mine is going to graduate in old clothes. Now what do you want?" Jack had forced his generosity upon me on more than one occasion. I knew there was no fighting him on this.

"Okay, fine. What do you think I should get?"

"How about a shirt? Those plaid ones look like something you'd go for." Jack knew me too well. I walked over to the rack and pulled out the shirt I had previously considered.

"I do like this one, but look at the price," I showed him the tag. "Absolutely ridiculous!"

"And you absolutely need it! It's like what you usually wear, but classier!"

"Wow, thanks." I looked down at my outfit. I was wearing jeans and a brown T-shirt with a plaid flannel over it that had seen better days. _He's not wrong..._

"See what I mean? Now are you gonna take my money and let me help you create your valedictorian image?"

"You don't think it's too busy for graduation?" I asked.

"No, it's subtle enough. I bet even the girls will approve. Go try it on already!" he commanded.

On the way home, we stopped at a diner for a snack. Jack ordered a Coke and fries and I got lemonade and a cookie. I knew I was running out of time to tell him about my plans.

"Hey Jack."

"Yeah?" He shoveled some ketchup drenched fries into his mouth.

"So... I uh...made a decision. About college." I took a sip of my lemonade and thought about what to say next.

"You going?" he asked, giving me his full attention. I hadn't even told him if I was going at all, much less where. We both knew that we wouldn't be at the same school, so this wouldn't come as some big surprise to him.

"I am. I'm going to California actually. Bay City University." I took another bite of my cookie.

"Really?! That's great! California!" He smiled big and slugged my shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me? That's so exciting!"

"I just decided this week." I smiled back. Jack was excited for me. That helped. His excitement was always contagious.

"I'll have to come visit you. We can explore Hollywood! Maybe even Vegas!"

"You want to lose all your money? Gambling is statistically not the be-"

"Quit changing the subject! You're going to California! That's great!" He held up his Coke in a toast. "To California!"

"To California!" I echoed. _Maybe Jack's right. This __California thing__ could be fun! __Maybe I shouldn't be having second thoughts._

At supper that night I tried to contribute just enough to the conversation so I wouldn't be questioned directly about my plans. I didn't think Mom would say anything. After all, she hadn't tried to talk me out of it yesterday. She didn't seem overjoyed about the prospect, but she seemed to support my decision. Dad and Kirsten, on the other hand, were a mystery. They hadn't said anything to me at all regarding my sudden announcement since the evening it had happened. I wanted to know what they were thinking. However, I knew that would require talking about it and possibly defending my choice to them. That very choice that I was still trying to justify to myself.

"Buy anything on your shopping spree, Kenny?" Kirsten asked as she reached over me to grab the carrots.

"Jack bought me a shirt to wear for graduation."

"That was nice of him," Mom commented.

"He insisted on paying for it. You know how he gets."

"Does he ever go anywhere where he doesn't buy anything?" Dad asked.

"Rarely. I worry for his trust fund," I joked.

"I hope you'll be more responsible than that when you're out on your own."

"Don't worry, Dad. I think I've been responsible with my money and I intend to continue doing so."

"Have you looked into banks in California yet?" he asked. I put my fork down and wiped some imaginary crumbs away from my face with my napkin.

"No. I hadn't thought about that yet," I said quietly. "But I will as soon as graduation is over." _Leave it to Dad to bring up all the important business things I forgot about. __I need to start thinking about that stuff. __I will._ _Later. _

"Do you know what the dorms are like?" Kirsten asked.

"Nice as dorms go, I guess. I can show you pictures later."

"I'd like to see those too, Ken," Mom added.

"Are you planning to take your car?" Dad asked. I hadn't thought about that either, but I didn't think that was what Dad wanted to hear.

"I suppose I will." I reached over Kirsten to take back the carrots.

"Provided your car can make it that far of a drive!" Kirsten teased.

"Hey, it works!" I pointed at her with my fork. She snorted.

"Barely!"

"It gets me from point A to point B. That's all that matters. I don't need any frills." I was glad we were focused on my car instead of actual plans.

"Frills like a consistently working heater, a back window that rolls up all the way, paint on the roof, a functioning seatbelt in the back seat behind the driver and the ability to go over sixty. Sure, Kenny. Sounds great."

"I probably won't need a heater much in California anyway. Besides, Dad fixed the window and I can get the roof repainted."

"Whatever you say, half-pint!"

"And no one ever actually rides in my back seat anyway!" I told her, confident I had won this debate.

"It would be pretty difficult to find a place to sit with all of the junk you have piled back there, wouldn't it?" Kirsten asked with a smirk. I felt my ears redden. The cleanliness (or lack thereof) of my car was a sore subject. "Though with as few friends as you have, I bet it's not an issue!" she added.

"Kirsten!" Mom broke in. She didn't understand why Kirsten and I could be so seemingly mean to one another sometimes.

"Come on, Mom. It's true, isn't it?" Kirsten defended herself as she reached over me to reclaim the carrots.

"Have you thought about where you're going to get your meals?" Dad asked, changing the subject.

"They have a cafeteria, I think. Or you can cook in some of the dorms."

"I would say the bank should be your first priority. You have to have access to your finances before you do anything," Dad recommended.

"I'll look into it next week." I couldn't imagine trying to do anything else with what little was left of this crazy week. Especially when the next task on today's list was telling Nancy my news. That was all I could handle today.

I rang Nancy's doorbell and waited. _They must be done with supper by now._ I rang it again. _At least you don't have to ask her to a dance this time! _I heard the door unlatch. Nancy opened it and smiled.

"Hey, Ken! I was listening to records and didn't hear the doorbell at first. Sorry I kept you waiting." She moved aside to let me in.

"Don't worry about it. You got a minute?"

"Sure! Have a seat." I followed her to the living room where she had her record collection spread out on the floor. "Can I get you anything?" I sat down on the couch. She put the record she had been listening to back in its jacket and turned off the player.

"No thanks. Your mother home?" _Maybe it won't be as tough if Mrs. Blake is here._ She shook her head.

"She's at a meeting about ladies aid stuff. Won't be back for at least an hour."

"Well I really just needed to talk to you, anyway." I picked up an album and pretended to read the track listing. I felt Nancy sit down on the couch beside me. I didn't know why I was so nervous. Nancy would understand, even if it upset her at first. I had no doubts about that. It was as if I felt that telling her would make it final. Real.

"Is something wrong?" She knew I seemed too serious.

"Well, no. It's just..." I paused and tried to think. _How do I put this? _I set the record on the coffee table and turned to face her. I took a deep breath and forced my eyes away from the floral pattern of the couch. Nancy took my hand in hers and squeezed it. I hadn't realized mine was shaking until now. _Why am I so nervous?_

"You can tell me anything. It's okay." She looked at me, waiting for me to tell her my mysterious secret. I felt bad for dragging it out.

"Nancy, I..." I pulled my hand away and ran it over my face. _I can't!_ I took another deep breath. _Just tell her! Don't leave her hanging! _"Remember how we were talking awhile back about what I was going to do this fall?"

"Yes, you were considering the Navy or college," she said slowly, trying to draw a connection.

"I came to a conclusion. I'm going to college." I reached for her hand this time. I needed a physical connection to keep me grounded. She scooted closer and waited. _Why is this so hard? _I'd had no time to anticipate telling my own family thanks to my impulsiveness. Telling Jack wasn't a walk in the park, but I knew he'd be good with whatever. I hadn't felt the same sense of dread I did now. _But Nancy? _She was different. _But why?_

"And?"

"And it's...well...It's not local. It's p-pretty f-far actually." _Great. _I knew that whenever I started stuttering, my composure was limited. I hoped I could finish telling her before it became an issue.

"How far?" I looked into her eyes, wishing I could bring myself to come right out with it. "Ken? How far?" she asked, her voice wavering this time. I had to look away so I wouldn't see the tears pooling in her eyes.

"California." I waited for her to react, to say something. She didn't. I stared down at our intertwined fingers for a long time before I dared to look up at her again. I swallowed hard. The tears had escaped and were making trails down her cheeks. But her expression wasn't entirely sorrowful. I thought I saw a hint of a smile. She finally spoke.

"Ken." She reached for my other hand and held both of mine in hers. I felt my own tears gather as she spoke my name. Something about the way she said it got to me.

"I'm s-sorry, I should have told you earlier." I said, rushing to get the words out.

"Ken." I couldn't look at her. "It's all right. I get it. I know this has to be hard for you." I nodded.

"What tipped you off?" I asked.

"You don't usually beat around the bush this much. And we usually don't talk about anything serious. Like ever." I laughed and felt some of the tension melt away. I fidgeted with her fingers.

"I don't know, Nancy. That conversation we had about the best ice cream flavor was pretty serious. You were seriously wrong!" It was her turn to laugh. I smiled.

"No, you were seriously wrong! Strawberry is the absolute best, Ken Hutchinson!" She pulled her hands away and pretended to be offended.

"Blasphemy! It's chocolate and everyone knows it!"

"Everyone without taste buds!"

"You are seriously delusional," I teased. She laughed. There was a minute of silence. Her smile fell.

"Where in California?"

"On the coast. Bay City. It's about 120 miles north of San Diego." There was another pause. I watched as another tear rolled down her face. I could see the smile behind her tears more clearly now. She turned to look me in the eyes.

"I'm so happy for you. I just know you'll have a great time with the ocean and everything right there." I had no doubt she meant every word.

"Thanks. I'm glad you think so." There was another long silence.

"You know something, Ken? I'm seriously going to miss you." Her voice broke mid-sentence. I couldn't take it. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into me. She hugged me back tightly. I felt her quiet tears start to soak through my shirt as she buried her face in my chest. I didn't attempt to stop a few of my own from falling. I knew she probably felt them. Maybe I wanted her to.

"Gonna miss you too, Nancy," I whispered. "Seriously."


	7. Chapter 7: Sayonara Speech

**Here it is, the second to last chapter! Enjoy! **

* * *

**Chapter 7: Sayonara Speech**

**Thursday, May 31st, 1962**

The last bell rang asI tugged hard at my locker door. It had stuck since the day it had been assigned to me. I yanked on it again. No luck. _Come on, you stupid thing. Open! _I hit it just above the latch, hoping to jar it loose. I sighed and considered giving up and throwing my stuff in my car instead. I hit it again, harder this time. It finally unlatched. The hinges squeaked as I pushed it fully open. I stuffed my things inside. I started to close it, then stopped myself. I dug my keys out of my pocket and put them inside as well. _Now I'll have to remember to come clean this thing out. _Today was the day I had finally decided it must be done. Everyone else had already cleaned out their lockers, but I kept putting it off. Graduation was tomorrow, so I was cutting it close. Digging through four years' worth of junk somehow never appealed to me.

"Hutch!" Jack called, jogging over to me.

"Hey Jack. Ready for graduation rehearsal?"

"Born ready. You?"

"I guess, though I still think it's pointless. I think Nicholson likes beating a dead horse," I replied as we walked toward the gym.

"Speech good to go for tomorrow?" he asked. I snorted.

"Nope. Still haven't written a word."

"Hutch, really?!"

"I'll do it tonight."

"Do you at least have an idea of what you're gonna say?"

"No. I figure I'll find inspiration out of necessity," I explained, trying to sound relaxed.

"How did you ever make valedictorian?" he mumbled. I shrugged as I pulled open the gym door.

"Beats me."

Graduation rehearsal took forever. I still wasn't sure why we even needed one. Thankfully, I was spared getting up in front of everyone again. We were given our caps and gowns on the way out. Jack found me in the hall afterwards.

"Now it's official, huh?" he asked, holding up his cap. "Got any plans tonight? Heather and I are going to dinner at that new Italian place. Probably catch a movie after. Wanna double?"

"I already told you, I have to work on my speech." _As bad as I hate to. _I took an empty box from a table outside of the gym and placed my cap and gown inside.

"That won't take all night! Get it done this afternoon." I grabbed Jack's wrist and checked the time. It was already half past four. He yanked his wrist away, mildly annoyed.

"I'm running out of afternoon. I gotta clean out my locker too. And besides, I'm not seeing anyone at the moment, so I'd only be a third wheel anyway."

"You don't have to be seeing anyone. Just ask anybody. Bring your totally not girlfriend Nancy if you want. You need to get out and relax!"

"I'm relaxed!" I argued. Getting out and relaxing seemed like a contradiction to me.

"Right. I was getting that from your obviously faked calmness over this speech thing," he said sarcastically.

"Fine, so I'm stressed! I'll admit it! Thanks for the invite, but I really think I'll need the time to work."

"Okay, but let me know if you change your mind." I stopped at my locker and set the box on the floor.

"Sure. See you tomorrow, Jack." I yanked on the door, pleasantly surprised when it opened on the first try.

"Or tonight?" he asked hopefully as he walked off.

"Don't hold your breath," I mumbled as I began shoving the contents of my locker into the box.

_I don't even remember putting half this stuff in here, _I thought as I pulled out a class schedule from 1958. I cringed as I read the flier from the fateful freshman year square dance. Once I finally got it completely empty, I carried everything to my car. I reached in my pocket for my keys. They weren't there. _Are you kidding me?_ I sighed as I knelt down and rooted through the box until I found them. I pulled myself up with the door handle, only to find that it was already unlocked. I shook my head and shoved things around to make room for the box. _I should clean this out sometime. __Kirsten's right. What a mess!_

I finally got home and brought the box inside. I plunked it down on the kitchen counter just as Kirsten appeared.

"You're late. What's this?" she asked, pointing to the box.

"I finally cleaned out my locker."

"Really? I'm surprised you didn't wait until tomorrow."

"Believe it or not, I don't always wait until the absolute last minute to do everything," I told her. _Just on speeches and other important things like that._

"Could have fooled me. Find anything interesting?" she asked, poking through the contents of the box.

"Not really, just a lot of old papers and pair of size small gym shorts I don't remember owning," I responded as Kirsten looked inside a paper sack. She visibly gagged.

"And an ancient peanut butter banana sandwich. Gross!" I leaned in and peered into the bag. The stench hit me immediately. It was my turn to gag. How she could even identify what kind of sandwich it was, or had been, was beyond me. Kirsten held the bag at arm's-length and carefully deposited it into the trash can.

"Why didn't I eat that?"

"That's the wrong question, Kenny. The right one is why did you still have it? Furthermore, how did you not notice the smell?" She asked as she washed her hands extra thoroughly. I shrugged and opened the fridge. I poured myself a tall glass of sweet tea and grabbed a bowl of grapes.

"Where's Mom?"

"Out back in the garden. Supper's at six if that's why you're asking." Sometimes I was convinced Kirsten could read my thoughts.

"That's what I needed to know. Tell her I might be late, will you? I really need to work on my speech."

"It's not done?" Kirsten raised an eyebrow.

"Haven't started." I took a long sip of tea. I could feel her judging me.

"Kenny! You can't-"

"I know, I know! It's terrible! Everyone's on me about it. Anyway, I'm not leaving my room until it's done." I picked up my glass and balanced the bowl of grapes in the crook of my elbow as I grabbed a tin of saltine crackers from the counter.

"Or whenever you run out of snacks," Kirsten commented, plucking a grape from the bowl.

"Whichever comes first!" I called over my shoulder as I headed upstairs.

I stared at the piece of paper in front of me. I had written a paragraph. It was bad, but it was something. _At least I have the introduction done. Even if I hate it. __Who am I kidding? I can't say this! Reading it silently is bad enough! It doesn't flow, the grammar is wrong, and it doesn't make sense! _I sighed and ate the last saltine. I rewrote the paragraph again, making a point to change almost every single word. It was still awful. _Come on, Kenny! It's not like you're writing the next Gettysburg __A__ddress here. Taking only two minutes to deliver it isn't a bad idea though. Short is good. __Lincoln was onto something there... _I stared at the clock. _How has it been an hour __and a half__ already? __That long__ and I have one very mediocre paragraph.__ Ain't that swell? _I leaned my head on my hands and slumped over my desk. I heard a knock on my door.

"Come in." I was grateful for the distraction. I lifted my head to find my mother standing there with a tray, her apron still tied around her waist.

"Your sister said you wouldn't be joining us downstairs, so I brought you up a plate." I moved my papers over so she could set the tray on my desk.

"Thanks."

"I thought your brain might work better on something besides crackers and grapes," she commented, indicating the two empty containers. "How's it going?"

"My brain doesn't work at all right now, honestly. I really gotta get this thing done."

"Well, I'd better let you get back to it." She turned to leave. I picked up my pencil, only to throw it down again in frustration a second later.

"Mom, wait!" I turned in my chair.

"Yes?"

"What kind of sauce is this?" I asked, pointing to my ravioli. I needed a break. Interaction with another human being. Blank pages were terrible company.

"Homemade. Same recipe as usual. Why do you ask?"

"I thought it had to be special since you're letting me eat it up here over the carpet," I joked, hoping she wouldn't notice I was stalling.

"Call it a special occasion. Don't drop any or this is a one-time deal. Got it?" she threatened. I nodded and looked at my still mostly blank pages.

"I promise I'll do my very best." I sighed and carefully took a bite.

"Good. I know you can handle it."

"Thanks." _Why do I get the feeling we __aren't __talking about pasta sauce anymore?_

"Anything else I can get you?"

"You could convince Dad to write this thing for me." I was only half kidding. Mom chuckled as she collected my empty grape bowl and cracker tin.

"I don't think he'd agree to that."

"That's unfortunate. I'm sure not having a successful go at it. I really hate this whole thing, you know? I don't wanna have to do this!" I bit into my garlic bread and pouted. Maybe it was childish, but I wanted to vent.

"I know it's not your favorite, but try not to worry, all right? You got straight A's this year, remember? You're a smart boy. Think of it as one last essay," she offered. I chewed some more ravioli as I thought it over.

"Maybe. Thanks for the food, Mom."

"You're welcome. Please don't get any on the carpet," she replied as she exited my room and closed the door.

I thought about what I wanted to say while I finished my meal. Problem was, I wasn't exactly sure what that was. I was unclear on what this thing was actually supposed to accomplish. _Why is this so difficult? It's just a speech. No one's gonna remember what you said in a week anyway...Half the people probably won't even be paying attention,_ I told myself. _It's not as big of a deal as you're making it out to be. Mom's right. __One last essay. __That's it. _I picked up my pencil and scrawled out a few basic notes.

Two hours later, I had a speech. It wasn't anything wonderfully eloquent, but I didn't hate it. It said what I thought it needed to say in a concise and coherent way. _Good enough._ I was too tired to write anymore. I'd intended to get Mom's typewriter and type it all up nicely, but I didn't feel like giving this anymore time than I already had. _I'll do it tomorrow,_ I promised myself. I straightened the papers, gathered my dishes, and went downstairs.

After dealing with the dishes, I joined the rest of my family in the living room. Dad was reading a book while Mom and Kirsten were watching TV. Mom looked up.

"Get it done?" she asked.

"Yeah, except for typing."

"About time," Dad commented, eyes not leaving his book.

"That's wonderful, honey," Mom added, shooting Dad a look.

"Feels good to have it finished. Scoot over." I motioned for Kirsten to make room on the couch. She begrudgingly obliged. "What's on?" I asked as I helped myself to some of her popcorn.

"_My Three Sons._" Kirsten replied, moving the bowl just out of my reach.

"What's happening?" I asked as I settled into the couch.

"Mike's in trouble because of a prank," she explained.

"Which one's Mike again?"

"The oldest. Why can't you ever remember that?"

"It's hard to keep them straight, okay?" I defended myself as I attempted to steal some more popcorn. Kirsten glared at me. I grinned as she set the bowl between us, calling a truce. I munched happily as the show ended. _The Law and Mr. Jones _was next. With the speech writing out of the way, I felt I could actually relax. I knew I still had to get through tomorrow, but I wouldn't allow myself to think about that right now. Dad eventually left to go mess with something in the garage.

"That does it for me," Mom announced after a while, "I think I'll go retrieve your father and head to bed. Don't stay up too late."

"But what if Kenny wants to celebrate school ending by staying up all night?" Kirsten asked.

"Yeah, what if I do?"

"School's not over until tomorrow. You've got a big day ahead of you."

"Don't remind me," I grumbled as I finished off the popcorn. _The Untouchables _came on as Mom left the room.

"So, Kenny. If you had to be an aeronautical engineer, lawyer, or a Prohibition agent, which would you pick?" Kirsten asked. We often had these hypothetical discussions while watching TV.

"Aeronautical engineering seems like something more up Dad's alley than mine. Lawyers have to get up and make speeches a lot, so I don't think I'd be too great at that part. I guess I'd rather be the law clerk who does all the research but doesn't speak in court. Maybe if Prohibition was still relevant then I might do that," I reasoned.

"You want to be on some gangster's hit list?"

"No, but I like mysteries. Crime is sort of like a mystery. Like who's hiding the alcohol? Where did they get it? Might be interesting."

"I guess, but I personally don't care to get murdered over booze."

"That's fair. I wouldn't either. Which job would you pick?"

"Hypothetically, I'd be a lawyer. But for real life I'll stick with the one I'm majoring in."

"You like physical therapy then?" I asked.

"Yeah, I really do." She seemed so sure of herself. Kirsten always was. She knew what she wanted and exactly what to do to get it. I wished I could be more like her.

"Why did you decide on it?"

"I find it fascinating. I also like that it directly helps people. You thought anymore about what your major's gonna be?"

"Some, but I don't think I've found it yet." _Not sure I'll even know it when I do._

"Wanna know what I think as your wise older sister who knows you better than anyone else in the world?"

"I suppose you'll tell me no matter how I answer," I mumbled.

"I see you doing something different."

"Different?" I looked at her skeptically.

"As in not typical. I can't see you doing a regular desk job."

"As opposed to an irregular desk job?"

"I mean something more hands on. You'd go insane if you had to sit all day," she explained.

I nodded in agreement. I couldn't picture myself happy being sedentary. I couldn't picture myself doing any job I had thought about either. That was the issue.

"So, you think I should be a construction worker or something?"

"I think you should be whatever you want. You could do anything, but if you're not passionate about it, you'll be miserable."

"Makes sense. Sure wish I knew what it was," I sighed.

"I think you can safely rule out anything that requires speeches," she teased.

"You got that right. This one nearly killed me, and I haven't even delivered it yet! I can't wait for tomorrow to be over." I ran a hand through my hair and groaned.

"Don't you think it will be at least a little bit fun? It's your last day of high school ever, followed by a huge party."

"I don't know. The speech kinda ruins it for me," I paused, "Well, and the dorky hats." I made a disgusted face. Kirsten laughed.

"You're concerned about fashion now?" She asked as I pulled myself up to a sitting position.

"I just think that since I put in the effort hitting the books all those years then they might let a man graduate with some dignity, you know? Like why do I have to wear a glorified choir robe and a piece of cardboard on my head? How does that make me look intelligent? I sure won't feel intelligent! It's a stupid tradition that's continued for years for some dumb reason. I don't get it!" I flopped back down against the arm of the couch. Kirsten smirked.

"I'm going to miss getting you riled up over nothing."

"You aren't going to miss me?" I asked, feigning hurt.

"I'm still trying to process that my baby brother is graduating tomorrow. When did you get so old anyway?"

"Two years after you." I poked her with my foot. She smacked me with a pillow. "Hey! What was that for?"

"For being a little pain in the rear for the majority of my life! I only got two years of peace, and those I was almost too young to remember. It's a real shame." Kirsten shook her head and stood up. I yawned. The show had long since ended. It was a quarter to midnight.

"I've had you my entire life. No peace at all. Gotta go clear to California to escape from your abuse!"

"You're such a baby," Kirsten mumbled through a yawn. "'Night, half-pint."

"Goodnight," I replied.

_It was a good night, _I thought as I crawled into bed. _My whole family together._ _Nowhere to go, sleeping under the same roof._ But I knew that wasn't going to be the case forever. I had grown up and time marched on. _I have r__esponsibilities __now__._ _Future plans._ _Places to go._ _Things to do __and...spee__ches to mak__e.__ Oh boy._

**Friday, June 1st, 1962 **

I dragged myself down the stairs at seven to find my mother fixing pancakes.

"Morning, Ken!" she greeted me with enthusiasm. I grunted in response as I plopped down at the kitchen table. "What's that?" she asked expectantly.

"Good morning, Mom," I mumbled as I let out a big yawn and rubbed my face. I could have easily slept longer. I hadn't got much sleep. Hard as I tried, I just couldn't shut off my mind.

"You and Kirsten stayed up late, didn't you?" she asked as she set a plate of pancakes in front of me.

"Not that late," I replied, yawning most of the sentence. "What's with the pancakes?" She usually didn't cook for breakfast. We were more the independently grab something simple type of breakfast people.

"Pancakes are a last day of school tradition! Don't you remember?"

"I do, but I'm tired. Just got up."

"I can see that," she said, looking me over. I was still in my pajamas.

"These are really good," I gestured to my plate with my fork. "Makes today a little better."

"Better?"

"Let's just say I'm not eager for what's on today's agenda." I frowned down at my plate. I suddenly didn't feel hungry anymore. I could tell Mom was watching me. I pushed a piece of pancake into a pool of maple syrup. I watched it slowly soak up the liquid. It reminded me of the way a feeling of trepidation had seeped into my every thought.

"Try not to be too nervous, honey. You'll do a great job."

"Have you seen me public speak before? I'm terrible! How can you say that? It's impossible, I can't-"

"Ken, stop," she interrupted me gently. "You know how I feel about that word. Can't is not something that applies to your capabilities, young man."

"You've always told me that, but I'm not sure I believe you," I admitted quietly, focusing on a scratch on the tabletop. Truth be told, I'd never believed her. I knew myself. I was not half the person my mother thought I was.

"Kenneth. Look at me." I obeyed. "You can do this. It's not your favorite thing in the world, but you can, I promise you. I'm not going to tell you it won't be difficult, because I know you aren't going to enjoy it."

"But-"

"But I know you. I know you've got a wonderful mind and a caring heart. I know you've grown into a man I can be proud of, Ken."

"Mom, I..." I wasn't sure how to continue. I was never any good at accepting praise. I sat there, letting her words sink in. I felt a smile start to form. _She's proud of me. _I smiled bigger as I realized the full extent of what she had said.

"Now finish your breakfast before it gets cold." I smiled and did as she instructed.

Before I knew it, lunchtime arrived. The whole school was buzzing with excitement. In a few short hours, graduation and summer would be well under way. I slid onto the bench across from Jack and sat my tray on the table.

"You didn't pack?" he asked, staring at me in shock. I usually avoided school lunches like the plague.

"Didn't want to mess with it for the last day. And it's pizza, anyway. They can't ruin that too badly, can they?" I explained as I picked off the pepperoni and threw it onto Jack's tray.

"Can you believe Mr. Brown tried to make us do actual school work?"

"Jack, we are at school. He's a teacher. It's his job."

"Still, who cares? The last day is for partying." If there was ever an opportunity to party, Jack was the first in line to take advantage of it.

"You still plan to stay out all evening?"

"Yep. You going to join me?" He looked at me hopefully. I chewed the cheesy, mediocre, slice of what the cafeteria called pizza as I thought it over.

"Maybe for a bit."

"Stay up late freaking out over your speech?"

"Something like that. Got it done though. You know what's wrong with this pizza? It's the crust. It's like chewy and hard at the same time. It's bland all around really. Needs more flavor," I observed, deliberately changing the subject.

"That's what the pepperoni was for," Jack mumbled under his breath.

The second the last bell rang, I started for home. I had to be back at school by six, so I had a few hours. I had walked this morning. My bag felt unusually light. _So, this is freedom. _I didn't feel any different. I was done with high school. _Guess it hasn't hit me yet._ It didn't feel real.

"Ken! Wait up!" Nancy ran up and fell in step beside me. "Mind if I walk with you?"

"Hey, Nancy. Enjoying your summer so far?"

"The first five minutes have been good. How about you?"

"Fine. How does it feel to be a sophomore?"

"Great! I finally won't be at the bottom of the totem pole."

"The top isn't always so great. They make you do a bunch of extra stuff when you graduate," I warned her.

"Especially if you're at the top of your class, huh?"

"It would seem so. I still think it must have been a fluke."

"I don't think so. You've helped me with my homework enough times, I should know. Especially all those angles in math. I don't get it at all."

"I learned it for the test, then forgot. Then, I had my dad re-teach me so I could show you," I admitted.

"You could have just told me to hire a tutor."

"You did! I was your tutor. You paid me in chocolate pie, remember? There was no way I was going to pass up that gig!" Nancy laughed.

"And here I thought you just wanted to help me out of the goodness of your heart!"

"Well, yes. But pie...uh...sweetened the deal a bit." I grinned. Nancy rolled her eyes.

"Can I give you some advice, Ken?" I nodded. "Don't become a comedian."

Hours later, I was standing in the kitchen attempting to tie my tie. It was the same brown one I always wore. _Why didn't I leave this tied after prom?_ I thought as I messed up for what seemed like the ten millionth time. I sat on the floor and used the oven door as a mirror.

"What are you doing?" Mom inquired as she entered the room.

"I can't get this stupid thing tied!" I sighed and dropped both ends. _Am I that nervous?_

"Here, stand up and let me help you." She had it tied perfectly in seconds. I grabbed my suit jacket from the back of a chair and put it on. Mom straightened my collar, then stood back.

"So?" I asked as I turned around slowly, showing her my entire outfit.

"You look handsome. Very grown up." Her eyes beamed with pride.

"It's a shame I have to cover it all up with a gown, huh?"

"You'd better get going."

"I know, Mom." I turned to grab my keys off the table.

"Ken?"

"Yeah?" I turned back around to face her, wondering what I was forgetting. _Speech? Check. Keys? Check. Wallet-_

"I love you." I crossed the kitchen and hugged her.

"Thanks," I whispered into her shoulder. I let go and started to leave the room.

"Ken, wait! Your keys!" Mom reminded me.

"Oh, guess I'll need those!" I grinned sheepishly. "See you after!" _What would I do without her? _I thought as I drove to school for the last time.

Graduation was in ten minutes. _Why, oh why did it have to be __me? _I tried my hardest to pay attention to the instructions that were being given about how to enter, where to sit, and so on, but it was no use. _I don't want to be here. I don't want to do this! No! _I felt physically sick. I tried to take a deep breath, but I had forgotten how. The hallway was much too crowded, even though I was standing at the back of the group of seniors. _Was this hallway always so narrow? _I wondered as I looked around at my peers. No one else seemed nervous in the least. They were all excited, happy even. _Why don't I feel like that? _I glanced at the clock above the gym door. _Eight minutes. _I still couldn't breathe. I quietly snuck away from the group, careful not to be noticed. I quickly turned the corner and made a beeline for the bathroom.

I was alone. I stood at the sink, staring at my reflection. _I even look terrified. Great. _I forced myself to take a small breath. My stomach hurt. I took off my hat and threw it on the counter. I ran my hands over my face and head. _Come on, Hutchinson. Pull yourself together here! Get a handle on it. _The gown felt restrictive around my neck. I took it off and threw it over a stall door. _I just need a minute. Then I'll be fine, _I told myself. It was no use. _Who are you kidding?! You can't do this! You're going to blow it! Give up alread- _

The nausea hit me full force. I yanked open a stall door and collapsed over the toilet, barely making it in time. I retched until I was sure my stomach couldn't possibly have anything left in it to get rid of. I used the wall to steady myself as I sat down, my back against the side of the stall. I stared at my own vomit. W_hy don't I feel any better __after all that? _I heard the bathroom door open, followed by footsteps. My gaze didn't leave the toilet. I closed my eyes and prayed this whole day was just a nightmare. I sensed someone squat down beside me. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Jack, his outstretched hand offering me a wad of paper towels. I accepted them and wiped my mouth.

"Thought I might find you here," he said, shifting to sit with his back against the opposite side of the stall.

"Why?"

"I dunno. You disappeared. Guess I know ya' after all these years."

"Has it started?"

"Yeah, everybody's seated. Except for you and me obviously. You still got a few minutes until go time. I told the principal not to worry. I'd find ya'."

"You shouldn't have."

"Why not?"

"I'm not going to do it."

"Nonsense! Of course you are!"

"I just can't, okay?" _Now __leave me alone._

"Yes you can and you will. It'll be great, you'll see!"

"Sure. And what I left in the toilet is appetizing," I mumbled sarcastically.

"Have I ever lied to you, Hutch?"

"Yes."

"If I did, it was for your own good! But I'm not lying now. You got this." I didn't feel like I had this. I felt like a disaster. Here I was, sitting on the bathroom floor in a suit and tie, losing my mind over the mere thought of delivering my speech. Having a panic attack over something that hadn't even happened yet.

"I have no desire to embarrass myself in front of everyone. I hated this thing from the start!" _Hate isn't a strong enough word._

"Then don't do it for yourself. Do it for the class of sixty-two. For your country. For your Mom. Whatever, just do it."

"I dunno, Jack." I rested my chin on my knees. _Mom __believes in me. So do Jack and Nancy. Even Kirsten does. Maybe they're right? __No, that's stupid. You can't and you know it. They're just saying __that__ to make you feel better._I sighed. _What's so wrong with feeling better?_ I thought as I reached over and flushed the toilet. I leaned my head against the back of the stall and closed my eyes.

"Hey, come on." Jack stood and offered me a hand. I took it and let him pull me to my feet. I walked over to the sink and rinsed my mouth out. Jack straightened my jacket and tie, then handed me my cap and gown.

"Thanks."

"Don't worry about it. What are friends for? Now get out there and kill em' Hutchinson!" He slapped me on the back as we left the room.

"I'd rather just kill myself instead," I mumbled under my breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," I replied as I followed Jack through the gym doors. I tried to ignore all the looks as I made my way to my assigned seat. _That's what you get for being late to your own graduation. _I settled into my seat and tried to calm down. _Why did I let Jack talk me into this? _Principal Nicholson was currently speaking, but I wasn't paying attention. I picked at a loose thread on my gown. _Stop fidgeting!_ I sat on my hands and looked around. I could feel my speech in my suit pocket. _I should just go. Leave the premises and forget graduation! They can mail me my diploma. _I wanted to, but I couldn't force myself to move. With every passing second, I was closer to the moment I had dreaded for close to half a year. I still felt sick. _It's just in your head. You already puked your guts out less than fifteen minutes ago. __O__h boy, this headache is mas-_

Sudden applause interrupted my thoughts. I realized that the Principal had sat down. All eyes were on me. I finally put it together. _It's time. _My heart dropped. I forced myself to stand. I focused on the floor as a made my way to the stage. I climbed the stairs slowly, only to trip on the last one. I didn't fall, but I knew everyone has noticed from the audible gasps as I caught myself on the railing. I pretended it didn't faze me. _Fake it 'til you make it, right? _

I stood behind the podium, not daring to lift my gaze from the wood grain. I somehow managed to extract the speech from the layers of my clothing._Stupid getup!_ I unfolded it slowly and smoothed it out with shaking hands. I swallowed hard. My stomach desperately wanted a repeat performance. I desperately wanted out of here. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't function. _Leave! _my brain screamed, but it was too late. I was stuck here. Frozen. Bolting wasn't an option. They were all looking at me. Waiting. I had forgotten everything I had coached myself on. I was drowning. _Go on, Kenny. You made it this far. _It felt like an eternity until I finally spoke.

"Good evening." My voice was so quiet that I wondered if the microphone was on. It was tilted much lower than I needed it. I carefully adjusted it, prompting a loud squeal. I felt my face get hot. _Why d__o__ I have to __be tall?_I waited for the squealing to stop. That's when I made another mistake. I looked up. I gulped. _So. Many. People. _I wanted to cry. They were all watching me, waiting for the rousing speech I was in no way prepared to give. My heart was pounding in my ears. It was deadly silent. _Please let me die! _I had to say something. I couldn't just stand there forever. _The sooner you speak, the sooner you can shut up, _I told myself. I gripped my speech and stared at the words I had typed. _Here goes nothing!_

"Here we are," I read quickly. "Graduation. After many years of h-hard work and dedication, we finally made it." A_nd I finally made it two sentences in. _I paused and straightened the pages. Not that they needed it. There was only two of them, but I wanted a chance to catch my breath. _Pull it together__, Hutchinson!_

"It wasn't always easy..."I stared out at the crowd, trying to pick out a single face, but they all blurred together. The stage lights were unbearably warm. I hoped no one could tell I was shaking. "But it- it was...uh...It was c-character building." My cap's tassel dangled annoyingly in my face. I pushed it to the side twice before removing the cap altogether.

Suddenly, everything I had written seemed silly. Too cliché. Unoriginal. I could keep reading, but I didn't want this to be my "one last essay". _What else can I do? Not like I have anything else prepared...__might as well struggle through the rest of it. _But I didn't. Instead, I folded my speech back up and continued, making it up as I went.

"Character is a- an interesting t-thing. It's not set in advance, nor assigned at b-birth. Can't be taught either. It's s-something we have to cultivate and develop based on experience and impact from others." I cleared my throat and hoped I was making sense. "I've learned a few things about character this past year. One thing is that it's c-consistent. I will never be passionate about certain subjects, no matter how h-hard I try. And that's okay. Not everyone has to be g-good at the same t-things." I cursed my stutter for the billionth time in my life.

"Conversely, it can also be inconsistent. Sometimes, I s-surprise myself. Do things I swore I never would. Those things can be positive," I paused. _Like __going to __Prom with Nancy. __Not running out __of here__._"or negative." _Treating Susan __poorly__. Blowing up at my parents.__ Being short with Jack. _"I also learned that when it is negative, it's still a chance- an opportunity to gain wisdom. And when it's positive, it can change your perspective. Seemingly unpleasant things can turn out to be great with the right person. Maybe something you aren't suited for is somewhat possible after all." I was probably rambling, but I kept going, careful to keep my gaze anywhere but on the audience. In my head, I was only talking to the gym wall. _Out of sight, out of mind._

"Another thing I discovered was that the people you surround yourself with can influence your character. I'm blessed to have people in my life that push me to be the best version of myself. Ultimately, however, it's up to me to make the decisions that will shape who I am. I was told that I get to decide who I'm going to be. We all do. Every day of our lives. Will we have integrity? Are we going to work hard? What are we going to value? As we all move on with our lives, consider what choices you'll make. Not just the monumental ones, but the small actions that define us, piece by piece. Something as simple as listening to someone or offering comfort instead of walking away. Putting forth the effort. Choosing to speak up, or remain silent.. To be kind. Those moments paint the picture of who we are." I pushed on, uncertain of where I was going with this. My train of thought hadn't run out of track yet.

"But it's not just about the future. Those moments are happening today. The poet Emily Dickinson once wrote that "_Forever is composed of nows."_ Our character lives on in our legacy forever. Circumstances may change, but the core of who we are doesn't." I paused, thinking about how to wrap this up. "Strive now to become the person you desire to be. It's too important to put off. Thank you."

I stepped back from the podium and took a deep breath as the applause began. _Did I just do that? _I was still shaking. _Why are they clapping? It wasn't even good. _I finally managed to spot my family in the crowd. They were all smiling. _At least maybe they liked it._ I started towards the stage steps, then turned back to retrieve my cap from the podium. I took the steps two at a time and quickly made it back to my seat. I tried to make myself as small as possible, ignoring my classmates. I blocked out everything and tried to force myself to calm down. _It's over. You did it! It's over. __I __survived. Easy, __Kenny. __E__asy. _Everything sounded muffled, as if I were rest of the ceremony was a blur.


	8. Chapter 8: After

**First of all, I'm sorry it took me so long to get this up! I have no excuse really, just procrastination. Thank you all for reading and making it to the final chapter! I would love to hear what you thought of it. Big thanks to Hutch-is-gorgeous for beta reading this and helping me make it better.**

* * *

**Chapter 8: After **

**Friday, June 1st, 1962 **

Before I knew it, graduation was over. I barely remembered getting up and walking across the stage to receive my diploma only a few short minutes ago. I made my way towards my family, pausing to exchange congratulations with a couple of my classmates on the way.

"Hey, Kenny! Let's see it!" Kirsten greeted me, motioning to the folder in my still shaking hands. I flipped it open and handed it to her. Both of my parents leaned in to examine my diploma as well.

"Good job, Son!" Dad commented, slapping me on the back. I almost fell over from the impact. I still felt weak. Mom wrapped me up in a big hug. I returned it and tried to force my heartbeat to slow down.

"I'm so proud of you, Kenneth! You were wonderful!"

"Thanks, Mama." I grinned. _Even if I think you're just saying that to make me feel better. _

"They even spelled your name right!" Kirsten added.

"Does this mean I'm officially smart?" I asked. I could feel the tension slowly start to melt away. _Just breathe, Kenny._

"It means you officially completed high school. That may or may not have any correlation to your intelligence," she teased. Jack was suddenly at my side.

"Hutch! Didn't I tell ya' you'd be great! Just think, the next diploma I get is gonna say doctor! How crazy is that? Congrats, buddy! My parents said to tell you good job too. Oh, and I need a picture with you outside before you leave, okay?" he said, his words spilling out in a rush.

"Sure, Jack," I answered him, "Just give me a minute."

"No problem," he called over his shoulder as Heather appeared and dragged him off to talk to someone else.

"Jack seems to be enjoying today," Mom observed with a chuckle.

"It might have something to do with the fact that he's been counting down the days ever since he entered elementary school," I joked. _If_ _only I could have enjoyed it as much as he has.__ But hey, __at least__ the speech is over! __Maybe the whole day isn't lost._

After what seemed like a million pictures, congratulations, and yearbook signings later, I finally went home. I tossed my cap, gown, and diploma on the back of the couch and ran upstairs to change. When I returned, Mom had moved my diploma to the mantle and had neatly folded my gown.

"You going out this evening?" she asked.

"Yeah, I think so. Unless you planned something? I could stay," I offered. I kind of hoped she had. I was already drained from the ordeal of graduating, but I didn't want to disappoint Jack either by not showing up. _Besides, I probably need to blow off some steam anyway. __It __might even __be fun._

"No, you go and have a good time. You deserve to celebrate with your friends. We'll have a nice family supper some other time. Just be careful," she warned, "And don't do anything unwise."

"I will. Or won't. Or whichever one results in me not making bad decisions," I promised as I grabbed my denim jacket and headed back out the door.

The party was at Pete Jefferson's house. The Jefferson's lived right next to a park with a picnic shelter, providing room for the overflow of people. I parked behind Jack's car just as he was getting out.

"Hutch! You came!" Jack seemed pleasantly surprised to see me.

"I thought I might as well since it's my last chance," I explained.

The house was packed. Almost everyone had already arrived. We'd only been here a few minutes and I had had already lost Jack. I looked over the food table, evaluating my options. I settled on a sloppy Joe, carrot sticks, and a piece of chocolate cake then headed outside to the picnic shelter. Most of the people were seniors, but some of the underclassmen were in attendance too. I made small talk with a few of them as I ate my supper. _I wonder if I'll ever see any of these people again after tonight? _I looked around, trying to locate Jack. I spotted him chatting with a girl I didn't know. _Typical Jack. __Always a social butterfly._

After I had thrown my trash away, I grabbed a beer from the cooler and wandered around watching everyone having a good time. I joined Jack in losing a horseshoe tournament and somehow got roped into helping judge a cartwheeling contest between a couple of the girls. I was talking baseball with a few other guys when I spotted a familiar face across the shelter. I hadn't got a chance to speak to Nancy after the ceremony, so I decided to go say hello. I excused myself from the conversation and walked towards her. Some guy had his arm around her. I recognized him as one of the juniors. He offered her a drink, but she pushed the cup away. I finally got close enough to make out their words.

"No, Joey. I don't want another one."

"You know you do," the boy who was apparently Joey responded.

"I don't. Really!"

"Come on baby, it's just one more drink! Then we'll get out of here," he promised.

I didn't like what I was hearing. _Baby? We'll get out of here? Who does this guy think he is? _There was no way she'd known him for more than a few hours.

"Joey, I told you I don't want to, okay?" she protested. I finally made it through the crowd so that I was standing directly in front of them.

"Ah, don't be such a-" Joey started.

"Good evening, Nancy!" I broke in. She looked up. I had trouble reading her expression.

"Hey man, what gives?" Joey asked, "I was talking to her!"

"I'm sorry. I thought you already got your answer," I told him. Nancy was busy staring a hole in the ground.

"That's none of your business!" he argued.

"It is if you're bothering her." Something told me I should walk away and let Nancy handle it, but Joey gave me a bad feeling.

"I'm not! We were just getting better acquainted. Right, baby?" He dropped his hand from her shoulder down to her waist. Nancy squirmed slightly.

"Um, yeah," she answered. Joey seemed to accept her less than halfhearted answer, but I wasn't buying it.

"Let's go. We don't need Mr. Smarty Pants here telling us what to do!" Joey spat. He was more than a little buzzed. Nancy looked worried. We had accumulated a few spectators.

"I think you should leave, Joey." I kept my voice calm. I didn't want this to escalate.

"Fine. We were just going to go for a drive anyway." He motioned for Nancy to get up. She seemed unsure about what to do. I wasn't.

"Alone," I clarified, adding a slight edge to my tone.

"Or what?" he asked, standing up and taking a step into my personal space, drink still in hand.

"Or nothing. I'm not trying to start anything here." I was losing patience quickly.

"Then why are you even interfering, huh? You wanna fight?" He shoved me with his free hand. I ignored it.

"No, I just think you ought to be able to tell when a lady's not interested," I explained. I could feel my temper rising.

"Don't act all superior! You just want her for yourself! Well guess what, buddy? You can have her! She's no fun anyway! Everybody knows she's your own personal little-"

I didn't let him finish before I returned his shove. Hard. I had no desire to hear the rest of his sentence. He fell backward onto the bench, spilling the contents of his cup down the front of Nancy's blouse. She yelped and leaped to her feet. A collective gasp escaped from the bystanders. Joey got up and swung at me. I dodged the blow and held up my hands in surrender.

"Let's not ruin a great party, Joey. Why don't we both agree to a truce, all right?" I figured he was at least sober enough to comprehend simple logic. I figured wrong. His fist connected with my jaw. I went sprawling backward onto the concrete. I tasted blood just before I felt his foot connect with my ribs.

"Stop it!" Nancy yelled, throwing herself in between us. "Both of you just stop!" She was almost in tears. Joey pushed her aside into the corner of a picnic table. "Ow!" she exclaimed, obviously in pain. I heard everyone gasp. Joey attempted to hit me again before Jack and a couple other guys from the wrestling team restrained him. I stayed put on the ground. I didn't know if it was due to shock or the pain in my side.

"What's your problem? You think shoving girls around is fun or somethin'?" Jack asked him, disgust obvious in his voice as they dragged Joey out of the picnic shelter.

"Ken!? Are you all right?" Nancy asked, kneeling beside me.

"Yeah, I think so. Just wasn't expecting him to come at me like that." I sat up with a wince. _Ouch! _Jack returned without Joey. I didn't bother to ask what they did with him.

"What happened, Hutch?" Jack asked, helping me up. Nancy seemed to have vanished.

"He was pushing her to drink. She told him no, but he was persistent. I asked him to back off."

"He touch you first?"

"Yeah," I answered, accepting a napkin for my now bloody lip. Jack nodded in approval.

"Your ribs feel okay?"

"They hurt," I answered truthfully. Jack grabbed my arm and steered me out of the picnic shelter.

"Lucky for you I'm a future doctor!" he told me as he poked at my side with all the tenderness of a bulldozer. "That hurt?" I shot him a dirty look.

"That's a stupid question, Jack."

"Sorry for caring, Hutch! I don't think you broke anything. You'd be griping even more if you had."

"All right, Doctor Jack, thanks for the diagnosis. I believe you're correct. Your bedside manner could use improvement, however." Jack rolled his eyes and ignored my criticism.

"Want to go ask for a horseshoes rematch?"

"No thanks, I'm beat. I think I might head home in a bit. Maybe we can do something in the next couple days."

"All right, sounds like a plan! And good job today, Hutch. Pretty good for a speech you wrote the night before. See you around!" Jack grinned and started to walk back to the center of the party. "Oh, and you should probably ice your jaw!" he added, yelling across the lawn.

"Yes, Doctor!" I yelled back. It would be odd not to see him on Monday at school. Not to eat lunch with him five days out of the week. I would miss the teasing, the spontaneous plans I got dragged into at the last minute, the complaining to each other about whatever stupid thing was bothering us. _Gonna miss you, bud, _I thought._ Carrots and all._

I walked down the sidewalk, trying to remember how far down I had parked. I was so preoccupied that I almost didn't notice Nancy. She was sitting with her back against the tire of a car parked a couple spaces ahead of mine.

"Nancy?"

"Hey." She sounded tired.

"What are you doing over here all by yourself?"

"Waiting for Karen. She's my ride."

"Is she headed this way?"

"No, she wanted to stay."

"Then why wait for her in the dark by the street? It could be hours before everyone calls it a night." That's when I noticed the beer in her hand. I had never seen Nancy drink before. I tried unsuccessfully not to let it concern me.

"I just want to go home," she admitted. I guessed it had to do with what had happened with Joey earlier.

"I can take you. It happens to be on my way," I joked, trying to lift her spirits.

"Yeah, okay," she agreed, getting to her feet.

"No open beer in my car, though. Wouldn't want to ruin my upholstery," I told her motioning to the can in her hand. She threw it into the nearest trash can, staggering a bit on the way. _This isn't her first drink of the evening._

"Ruin your upholstery. Give me a break," she mumbled. I opened the door for her and shoved whatever junk was in the passenger seat into the back. I got in and started to drive towards home. She didn't say anything for a few minutes. I was beginning to wonder if she had fallen asleep when she finally spoke.

"What's your problem?"

"Huh? Nancy, I don't-"

"I mean, what do you want?" She was growing more agitated with each question.

"What are you talking about?"

"You and me. What is it?"

"I think you had too much to drink. You aren't making sense."

"You don't make sense either, Ken! That's the problem." I knew she was drunk, but I still wanted to understand what it was she was getting at.

"Care to explain?"

"Take what happened tonight with Joey. Maybe I was having a good time until you butted in and ruined it!"

"Nancy, the guy is a creep and you know it. You can't tell me you actually wanted to spend the evening with him."

"What if I had? Why do you care who I spend the evening with, huh? Who made you the judge of what I can and can't do?"

"You were the one that kept telling him no."

"I could have handled it myself! I never asked you to protect me from what you decide is dangerous! When are you going to stop treating me like an idiot? You must think I'm dumb!"

"I never said that." _A little naive, maybe. But not dumb._

"I wasn't going to leave with him or anything."

"He wasn't exactly taking no for an answer." I thought I'd done the right thing.

"You agreed that we were just friends at Prom, remember? Has that changed? Is that why you're jealous?"

"Jealously has nothing to do with it! As your friend, I wasn't going to let some jerk take advantage of you." Joey's last sentence echoed in my didn't take much imagination for me to guess the rest of what he would have said had I not shoved him. Jack's comments from a week ago came to mind too. I sighed._Am I being unreasonably protective? __We're not an item. __Then why does it bother me when someone else pays attentio__n-_

"What happens when you leave for California? You won't be able to babysit me anymore!" she said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"How many drinks did you have, anyway?" I questioned. _She's drunk. Don't take anything she says personally._

"I suppose now you're going to tell me about how drinking is so awful!"

"It really isn't a good idea-"

"You drink!" Nancy had never been angry with me before. I hated arguing with her.

"I only had one beer, Nancy. Not enough to get me drunk." I felt like we were going around in circles.

"Well aren't you responsible? You're not my dad, my brother, or my boyfriend, so why does what I do even matter?" I hit the brakes as we pulled up to red light. I was fed up with this conversation.

"Because I care about you and I don't want bad things to happen to someone I love!" I blurted out. "Is that so hard for you to wrap your head around?" I knew I was yelling. There was silence from the other side of the car. The light changed to green, but I didn't hit the gas. I looked over at her. She was staring out the window with her back to me. I sighed and continued driving, unsure of what else to do.

"Please pull over," Nancy said quietly. We were nowhere near home yet.

"Why?" _She'd rather walk home __through __a bad neighborhood than spend another second with you. Great going, Hutchinson!_

"Just do it."

"Nancy, look-" I started to apologize.

"Now!" she yelled, startling me. I slammed on the brakes. The car barely came to a stop before she had her door open and was out of the car. I cut the ignition and crawled out of the passenger side after her. She was hunched over the grass in the front yard of someone's house. She looked as if she was in pain.

"Nancy?" I called, my voice just above a whisper.

"I feel sick," she complained. I was by her side in a second. I laid a hand on her back. "I think I'm gonna-" I gathered her hair just in time for her nausea to win out. Her stomach's efforts to rid itself of the alcohol were so violent that her whole body shook. I kept my hand on her back for a second after she'd finished.

"Let's go home, huh?" I suggested quietly. She nodded as she wiped her mouth on her sleeve. I helped her up and guided her back to the car. Once she was settled, I got back in and started the engine.

"You know what?" she asked as we stopped at another light. "My mom is gonna kill me." She almost laughed. "It's after midnight. I was supposed to be home by eleven."

"Mine is probably waiting up for me too."

"At least you don't smell like a brewery," She motioned to her beer stained blouse.

"Sorry about your shirt. Guess that was my fault."

"It's the least of my worries right now."

"You ever drink before tonight?" I asked. She shook her head. "So this is going to make your mom extra happy then."

"I can already hear her. You know better, young lady! I'm so disappointed in you! Your father would be ashamed! Good Catholics don't do that!" she said, doing her best impression of Mrs. Blake. I laughed. "Think you'll get the same treatment?" she asked.

"Oh yeah. Do you have any idea what time it is, Kenneth? You could have at least called! Communication is important!" Nancy laughed. I was glad the mood had shifted.

"We're gonna be in so much trouble."

"Maybe not." I pulled into the nearest parking lot.

"Why are we stopping?" I grabbed a flashlight from glove compartment and shone it at the floor.

"Hand me the phone book that's under your seat." She passed me three. "Hold that," I said as I gave her the flashlight. She yawned. I determined which was the most current and flipped until I found the section I was looking for. I shut the book and put the flashlight away. I turned the car around and drove the opposite direction.

"What are you doing?"

"We are going to get you in less trouble."

"By making me even later?"

"By getting rid of the evidence," I explained as I turned onto a side street. "There's this great little twenty-four-hour laundromat around the corner. We can wash your shirt."

"It's a good plan, but it has a couple flaws."

"Such as?" I asked as I parked in front of Laundry 4 Less. Ordinarily, I wouldn't be caught dead in this neighborhood at night, but these were desperate times.

"It will take extra time. Also, I don't have anything else to wear."

"We can call home," I explained as I crawled into the back seat. "And it just so happens I keep a stash of extra clothes in my car at all times."

"Ken, it's fine, really. I can handle my mother's wrath."

"Would you rather wear a wrestling sweatshirt, or an 'I finished the Monster Burger' T shirt?" I held both of them up for inspection. "I'm fairly certain they're both clean." She giggled and reached for the sweatshirt.

"What is the Monster Burger, anyway?" she asked as we got out of the car.

"It's a huge bacon cheeseburger they have at this place up by the lake. If you finish it in three hours, then you get a free shirt. Jack decided we had to give it a shot a few months ago."

"You finished it?"

"He finished his. It was too much for me," I confessed as I opened the door and followed her inside. I purchased the necessary items while she changed in the bathroom. The clerk barely acknowledged our presence.

"Think I'll ever be able to wear this blouse again? Why did I have to wear white?" She grumbled as she placed it into the washer.

"How's the sweatshirt?"

"The fit could be better." She pushed up the sleeves. "My name isn't Hutchinson either." She gestured to the back where my name was printed. "And it kinda distracts from my skirt."

"At least it's not covered in beer. You want a coffee?" I asked as she sat down on a bench. Nancy nodded. I started a pot on the most ancient coffee maker I had ever seen and plopped down on the bench.

"Why does this night seem eternal?" Nancy asked, closing her eyes.

"Technically, it's already morning. I know what you mean though." _Was it really just hours ago I made my speech? _I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. The coffee was done about the same time as the washer. I poured two cups while Nancy transferred her shirt to the dryer. We both returned to our bench.

"How's your lip?" Nancy asked.

"Fine. The cut wasn't that big. What about your hip? You got shoved into that picnic table pretty hard."

"I'll have a bruise, but I'm okay. Are you sure you're fine?"

"Yeah, I'll just have to remember to ice my jaw." I took a long sip of my coffee.

"Um...Ken? About what I said earlier...I'm sorry. I was being ridiculous. What happened wasn't your fault. I know you were just trying to look out for me. I don't know what got into me."

"You were drunk."

"It's not just that. I've been thinking a lot lately with graduation and all. About how it will be my turn in a couple years and..." She took a deep breath. "And about how my dad won't be there."

"Oh, Nancy..." I wasn't sure what I could say. I couldn't fathom what she must be going through.

"I don't mean to be a downer. I just think you need to know why I seem kinda messed up tonight. Not that it excuses me being such a pain. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I assured her. We both stared into space for a minute.

"I just really miss him, you know?" The raw emotion in her voice tore at my heart. I took her hand in mine. She squeezed it before continuing, "Ever since I was little, I always pictured him there. Graduation, college, my first real job, walking me down the aisle…Things didn't turn out like that though."

"He would be so proud of you. He always was. One of the last times I saw him, he told me he had the smartest, most beautiful daughter in the whole world." She wiped a single tear away with her sleeve.

"I remember that. We went out for dinner because I got all A's on my report card," Nancy replied, smiling.

"I agree with him."

"Huh?"

"What he said about you. He was right," I told her. Our eyes met. I hoped mine would say what words couldn't. She leaned her head on my shoulder as I wrapped an arm around hers. We both said nothing until the dryer buzzed.

"I'm going to go change," she announced, getting up.

"I think I'll go make a couple of calls," I replied, pointing to the phone booth in the corner. She was waiting by the door when I came out.

"Did you call my mom?" she asked. I nodded. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her you'd be home soon."

"Did you tell her why I'm going to be so late in the first place?"

"I told her that we had to make a stop to help a friend. Told my mom the same thing." I opened the door and dug out my keys.

"Ken! Tell me you didn't lie to your mother!" Nancy scolded as we got back in the car.

"I didn't lie! I was helping a friend. Helping you not get in major trouble," I defended myself.

"Uh huh. And who did I help?" She sounded unconvinced.

"The laundromat guy. He made some money off of you."

"Oh please." The light from the laundromat sign illuminated her unimpressed expression as she rolled her eyes.

"So, it's a bit of a stretch! Bottom line is that they won't worry unnecessarily."

"I still don't condone it," she stated as she buckled her seat belt.

"But you're not going to rat me out, are you?" I teased.

"No."

"Don't want to incriminate yourself too, huh?"

"Nope," she admitted, giggling. I laughed and started the car. I pulled out and drove toward home once again.

"Feel better now?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think the coffee helped."

We drove in silence for a while. I yawned. _Boy, I'm tired..._

"Ken? I'm really sorry. I ruined your graduation night."

"What do you mean?"

"You got in a fight, had to deal with me being drunk and sick, and were delayed significantly from getting home. Not to mention listening to me bare my soul in the middle of a laundromat at nearly two in the morning."

"At least it will be memorable," I offered.

"I'm sorry anyway. This was your night and I made it about me and caused you to get hurt. I also said some things that I shouldn't have. I owe you this apology."

"Apology accepted. No hard feelings." I smiled over at her, even though it was likely too dark for her to see it. Everything felt almost normal between us again. Almost. There was still one discussion we had to have. "Nancy...I uh...I need to apologize to you too."

"For what?"

"For earlier. When I snapped and yelled at you before you told me to pull over."

"Ken, no, you had every righ-"

"No, I didn't. I shouldn't have lost my temper."

"I forgive you. Guess we both made some poor choices tonight."

"I get a bit...well...overprotective sometimes. I was thinking about you as the little girl next door." I felt I had to tell her what was on my mind.

"I'm still her, Ken."

"I know, but you're also the young woman next door. More and more, I'm realizing that. It made me sick the way Joey was treating you. Not because I have some claim on you, but because I know you deserve so much better. You're a wonderful person and you need someone who sees that." I stared out at the dark street, waiting for her to say something. I signaled as I turned into our neighborhood.

"Did you mean it?" she asked, "Do you love me?"

I was unprepared for the question. I recalled my exact words from hours before. _Because I care about you and I don't want bad things to happen to someone I love!_ I sat in stunned silence as I contemplated how to answer. I decided to go with the honest truth.

"I'm sorry the first time I said it was in an emotional outburst, but yes, Nancy. I love you." Saying it out loud felt strange. Not because it wasn't true, but because declaring my innermost thoughts out loud wasn't something I often did.

"It wasn't the first time you said it," she informed me.

"When did I-"

"You said it when you let me join in when you played, when you mowed my lawn or shoveled the driveway. Or when you loaned me a record, helped with my homework, or let me cry on your shoulder. When you took me to Prom, and when you came over to tell me you were leaving." I couldn't see it, but I knew she was smiling at me. "I guess I always knew you did."

"Me too," I admitted quietly as I pulled into my driveway and cut the engine. I tried to reign in my emotions as we got out of the car and started to walk towards her house where the porch light had been left on.

"Ken?" she asked, touching my arm gently. I stopped and turned towards her.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me close. "I love you too," she whispered.

**Monday, June 4th, 1962**

I stood in the kitchen, helping Mom and Kirsten put the finishing touches on the food for what had been deemed my special graduation supper.

"Do I get points for presentation?" I asked, showing Mom the plate of smoked salmon I had just finished arranging.

"Looks great! You really didn't have to help. Kirsten and I could have managed," Mom said, taking the plate and placing it in the oven to keep it warm.

"I know, but what else do I have to do now that schools out? Besides, I don't trust Kirsten with my salmon. She always overcooks it," I responded.

"That was one time!" Kirsten protested.

"One time is all it takes to instill doubt," I shot back, grinning. Kirsten stuck her tongue out at me and returned to her task of frosting the cake.

"Enough, both of you," Mom instructed. "Our guests will be arriving any minute and I'd like you to at least attempt to act like adults." The kitchen door opened, and Dad walked in.

"Something smells good," he observed, kissing Mom on the cheek.

"You're late, honey," she informed him.

"Sorry. I had to revise some incorrect figures from our new man. Again. I'm beginning to wonder if he really has an engineering degree," Dad explained.

"If he's that bad, why keep him?" I asked.

"We need the extra manpower if we're going to get this order ready in time."

"Speaking of in time, did you pick up the drinks like I asked?" Mom inquired as she assembled the salad.

"Yes. I got them yesterday, remember?" Dad reminded her. Mom was typically an organized person. At least until the last five minutes before an event, when she seemed to forget and second guess everything.

"Oh, that's right. Kirsten, is the table set?" Mom asked.

"It's been set for an hour. The same as last time you asked me," Kirsten replied.

"And before you ask, I did remember to invite everyone and they all said they'd be here," I added as the doorbell rang. I started to go answer it when Dad stopped me by grabbing my shoulder.

"Take that off," he instructed, motioning to my apron. I untied it and handed it over.

"Why? Don't want people to know that I cook?"

"No. I don't want you getting this flour or whatever it is on the carpet. Your mother vacuumed before you even got up this morning," he explained.

"Kenny's not exactly what you'd call a neat chef. Or a neat anything for that matter." Kirsten added as I went to answer the door.

My family, the Mitchell's and the Blake's were all in attendance. Jack even had on a tie. _Bet his mom made him, _I thought as I passed him the salad.

"Jack tells me you're headed to California in the fall," Mr. Mitchell spoke up.

"That's right," I confirmed.

"Why California?" Mrs. Mitchell asked.

"Good scholarship," I answered somewhat truthfully. _What else could I say? I don't know? It seemed like a good idea at the time? I just said it and was too chicken to back out? _Somehow, none of those seemed appropriately impressive. Besides, it was a good scholarship.

"I always said you were a smart boy" Mrs. Blake added.

"I always thought so too," Mom agreed. I blushed at the compliments.

"What are you majoring in?" Mr. Mitchell inquired.

I froze. I still had no idea. _W__ell you see, __I haven't actually thought about that. I just decided to move across the country to pursue an unidentifiable goal...__That sounds terrible!_Luckily_, _Dad came to my rescue.

"He hasn't selected one yet, but they've got a great variety of programs out there." I shot Dad a thank you grin. Dad had a way of making anything sound logical and well thought out. I was still hoping some of that skill would rub off on me.

After a while, once we all had finished supper, the "kids" headed outside for a game of basketball. It was Kirsten and I versus Jack and Nancy. Otherwise know as the Hutchinsons versus the Only Children. Kirsten and I were up by two. Jack passed Nancy the ball. She tried to make a shot but was promptly blocked by Kirsten.

"Foul!" Jack protested.

"I didn't touch her!" Kirsten argued.

"It was clean," I agreed.

"Clean as your car," Jack mumbled as play resumed. I dribbled around him and made an easy basket.

"Why does everyone make fun of my car?" I asked as I handed him the ball.

"Because it's a trash heap," Kirsten explained. Jack nodded.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad. Right, Nancy?" I looked to her for support. She shrugged as Jack made a jump shot.

"Not gonna lie. It is pretty bad," Nancy answered with a giggle.

"You should get it sprayed for roaches," Jack advised as he switched to defense.

"You all are merciless!" I complained.

Kirsten tried to pass me the ball, but Nancy was determined to stop her. I ran across the driveway to give her a better angle.

"No ya' don't!" Jack shouted as he grabbed me and dragged me away from the basket.

"Foul!" I yelled as I tried to escape his grasp. Kirsten took a wild shot from the top of the driveway, then ran for the rebound. Nancy went for it too, but my sister got the ball and made a quick jump shot.

"That's ten! Hutchinson's win!" Kirsten announced. I finally managed to free myself from Jack.

"The Only Children demand a rematch!" Jack proclaimed.

"You guys have the height advantage. It's not fair," Nancy added.

"Jack's taller than me and Kirsten, so it balances you out. How is that not fair?" I asked.

"I'm the only one that can't block anybody!" she replied, sitting down on the driveway. Jack joined her and laid down, panting.

"You could block me if you jump," Kirsten offered.

"After all that food, jumping sounds really unappealing."

"We'll get em' next time, Nance," Jack consoled her as Mom came outside.

"There's cake inside if you kids are interested," Mom informed us.

"Sounds great to me!" Jack replied.

After cake, it was time for gifts. Jack gave me an envelope stuffed with cash marked _Hutchinson Socialization Fund._

"Jack, it's too much. I can't-" I started to protest.

"You can, you will, and you must. Can't have my best pal reverting to his hermit ways! Here's a card to go with it," Jack said as he handed me another envelope. I opened it and silently read what he had written.

_Hutch, _

_Thanks for going along with all my crazy ideas for four years. You're a great buddy and I hope CA treats you well. Enjoy the beach, the sun, and the women for me! _

_-Jack Mitchell, Future MD_

"Thanks, Jack!" I smiled as I placed the card back in the envelope. Kirsten handed me a heavy unwrapped box. I shook it and tried to guess what it could be.

"Don't," Kirsten ordered. "It might be explosive." I shot her a skeptical look as I cut the tape and peered inside.

"Mason jars?" I was slightly confused as I pulled one out. "Wait- they're half-pints!? That's perfect!" I laughed as I unscrewed the lid and examined the inside.

"I thought so. You don't have any cups, so I thought they might be a good size for that. Or taking snacks to class. I just knew you needed them for something."

"I'll use them every day! Thanks!" I pulled the note off the top of the box and read it to myself.

_Hey there, Half-Pint! I must admit it. I love ya'. Don't get into too much trouble in California, __okay? I won't be there to pull you out of it. Have fun, Kenny. You're the best baby brother I've got. Even if you are a bit of a slob and __always steal my snacks._

_-Kirsten_

I smiled at the insult combined with the compliment. I opened the one from Mrs. Blake next. She'd knitted me a scarf in Bay City University's colors.

"It's not the most practical thing for California, but maybe you can wear it when you come home for holidays," she explained as I tried it on.

"I will. It's great! Thank you!"

"Open mine next," Nancy requested, handing me a gift bag. I carefully unfolded the tissue to reveal a picture frame.

I turned it over to see the photo of Nancy and I before Prom. It was the one we had taken in front of the tree in her front yard. I was once again reminded of how beautiful Nancy had looked that evening. Her smile radiated through the glass. I stood next to her, looking like I was genuinely happy. _Probably because you were, _I told myself. I loved this picture. Not just because of that particular night, but because of how real it was. There were no awkward poses or faked smiles. It was as genuine as our friendship.

"I love it, Nancy! I hadn't seen any of our Prom photos yet. Thank you!" I smiled and turned it around so everyone else could see.

"I just got around to getting them developed a couple weeks ago. That was my favorite," she explained. "Did you read the back?" I turned the frame over to reveal a message I hadn't noticed before written on the back.

_Dear Ken, _

_Thank you for all you've done for me. For being my big brother, my best friend, my confidant, and someone I can always count on. You have always been and always will be one of my favorite men. I'll miss you._

_Love, _

_Nancy_

I carefully placed the frame back in the bag and smiled at Nancy.

Mom handed me a large box whose label told me it was from her and Dad. I tore it open to find a letter jacket. My parents had asked if I'd wanted one when school had offered them, but I'd refused because I wasn't fond of our schools colors. I also thought the letters made them practically unwearable post high school, so I kept my letter sitting on my bookshelf. This jacket was a different story. It was a lovely shade of dark green with white leather sleeves. It was the nicest one I had ever seen. I held it up to get a better look. The material felt luxurious. _M__ust have been expensive..._

"Do you like it?" Mom asked.

"Yes," I fingered the cuff, admiring the craftsmanship. "It's gorgeous." It was the jacket of my dreams I didn't know I'd wanted.

"Your dad helped me pick out the color," Mom informed me.

"I love it, thank you both." I smiled at my parents.

"You'll find some money in the pocket," Dad said, "You can use it to buy tools or materials when you have a project."

"Thanks, that will come in handy," I replied.

"Yeah, because your car will inevitably break somehow," Kirsten added. I threw a ball of wrapping paper at her in retaliation.

After a while, the Mitchell's decided it was time to go. It was Monday, after all, and Jack's Dad had to leave early the next morning for a business trip. Jack hung back a bit after his parents made their way to the car.

"Thanks for the party. A bit lower key than I usually go for, but the food was amazing! Even the five star place downtown can't compete with your mom's salmon recipe!" he said, grinning.

"Thanks, I'll be sure to pass your compliments on to the chef," I replied. I too was a great admirer of my mom's salmon. It was pretty much the only way I would tolerate a slab of meat as a main dish.

"Next time I'm going to beat you at basketball!"

"Are you going to have to cheat again to do it?" I teased.

"I never cheat, Hutchinson!" Jack exclaimed.

"You do to! You just won't ever admit it!" I shot back, pointing at him in an accusatory fashion.

"Whatever. See ya' somewhere, Hutch!" Jack waved and ran out to join his parents. I chuckled. He always bolted when he knew I was right and couldn't think of a good enough come back. I returned to the living room to see what everyone else was up to.

"Are you sure you don't need any help cleaning up?" Mrs. Blake asked my mother.

"Oh, don't worry about it. Kirsten and Ken can give me hand. It's not that much anyway. Thank you for coming!" Mom replied, giving Mrs. Blake a hug.

"Of course! We wouldn't have missed it! You've raised one handsome young gentleman. You should be proud!" Mrs. Blake smiled in my direction. I blushed.

"I'm aware! I think he was a good investment," Mom said, throwing an arm around my shoulders and pulling me in for a side hug.

"Thanks again for the scarf," I told Mrs. Blake.

"You're certainly welcome. You let me know if you ever need anything. Don't hesitate to-" Suddenly, Nancy burst through the back door.

"Ken! You have to come outside! There's a squirrel eating- Uh…sorry for interrupting." She looked apologetically at her mother.

"Well go on, Nancy. This squirrel sounds important!" Mrs. Blake ordered, chuckling. Nancy grabbed my hand and dragged me out the door.

"There!" She pointed to the ground under the swing where a squirrel was chewing on the apple core Jack had thrown over there earlier. "Isn't he cute? Kirsten and I named him Ralph." Ralph picked up the apple core as a person would pick up corn on the cob. I found it more entertaining to watch than I probably should have, but he was pretty cute. I sat down in the grass and gave Ralph my full attention. Kirsten came outside with her camera and took a picture of him. He eventually took the apple core and scurried away. Nancy stood and offered me a hand up.

"Thanks for inviting me, Ken."

"Mi mamá me hizo," I responded.

"Now what does that mean?"

"My mom made me," I translated, grinning.

"That's not true!" she complained, poking me in the ribs.

"Okay fine, she didn't make me. That is what it means though."

"Stop using your Spanish skills for evil!"

"Maybe I can actually use them in California. I might meet someone who only speaks Spanish."

"You'll write, won't you?" she asked, her tone suddenly more serious.

"Sure, I will. I'll call too."

"Good. I want to know what California is like."

"And I want to know if you see Ralph again. I need weekly updates on his movements!"

"You're such a stinker!" She gave me a playful shove.

"But you love me anyway!" I protested.

"You're right. I do." She hugged me. "Seriously." She smiled from ear to ear. I returned it before we both headed back inside.

After the Blake's left, Kirsten and I worked on cleaning up. We piled the dishes in the sink, electing to put them off until tomorrow.

"How did nine people use this many dishes?" Kirsten wondered out loud as she added more to the growing stack.

"We all had a supper plate, salad bowl, dessert plate, and a snack plate. Not counting drinks that's...thirty-five dishes."

"No, Kenny. It's thirty-six. Weren't you supposed to be the valedictorian or something?" she corrected me.

"It's been a long week, okay?"

"It's only Monday, half-pint."

"Fine! A long and busy long weekend."

"It's not a long weekend unless it's an actual holid-"

"A long few days then! Happy now?" I interrupted before she could finish correcting me again.

"That works. Hand me the frosting bowl," she ordered.

"You're going to miss harassing me, aren't you?"

"I'll find a way, half-pint. Even from a distance," she grinned as she tied up the trash bag and handed it to me to take out. I put on my new jacket before I went outside. It wasn't really cold enough, but I wanted an excuse to wear it. It was a bit big, but I figured it would be perfect once I was finished growing. _Or if all the food I ate tonight ever decides to catch up with me._

I placed the trash bag in the can and took a detour to the swing. I wondered if Ralph was up in the tree somewhere. I sat down and enjoyed the stillness for a while. I was tired and it was late, but I wasn't ready to go inside yet. A cool night breeze blew over me, as I gazed up at the stars. Even though I had spent many nights staring up at them, their beauty never ceased to amaze me. _I could stay here all night._

Then, it hit me. _It's over. Nothing will ever be like it is now._ _It's done... It's over and...I'm all right with that._ I could keep stressing over what to major in, if I would transfer, what my career would be, if I would find any friends out there, and everything else under the sun. But honestly, none of it mattered. Regardless of whatever would happen in California, or in my life, I would still be me. I could still decide who that was. It would work out somehow. I could feel it. Even if everything went wrong, I would still have a family that loved me and a place to come home to. It had been an eventful year. I couldn't say I'd miss everything about it, but I was thankful that it had turned out like it had. An overwhelming sense of peace washed over me as I sat there in the dark. These nows would always be a part of my forever. And for that, I was truly grateful.


End file.
